


Through the highs and lows there's a truth that I've known (And it's you)

by Charlie_Bb



Category: The Amazing Spider-Man (Movies - Webb), The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Also they're stupidly in love, Angst!, Anxiety and panic attacks, Because Fury hates his guts and is trying to make his life miserable, But maybe those two are not so bad, Dad issues!, Eventual Happy Ending, Happy Ending, Happy moments!, M/M, Of course it has to be Tony, Peter hates everyone and his life sucks, Slow Build, Steve is a goody and helps Tony with the kid, Superfamily (Marvel), Tony is not as much of a douche as he wants you to believe, Trust issues!, What if Peter was an orphan and had to find a foster home, more angst!, no seriously happy ending
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-12-28
Updated: 2017-08-16
Packaged: 2018-05-10 01:20:10
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 8
Words: 71,159
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5563252
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Charlie_Bb/pseuds/Charlie_Bb
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“Seriously, Fury, this is not gonna work,” he let out then, exasperated. “I can’t do what you’re asking, and I don’t give a damn if you’re not really asking. I can’t take the boy with me, I wouldn’t even know what to do with him. Take him to school? Cook him meals? Come on, I can barely take care of myself, less of all of another human being. Even worse, a teenager!”</p><p>“The boy will be delivered to the Stark Tower at thirteen hundred today,” Fury said. “Good talk, Stark.”</p><p>And before Tony could even think of adding something to make his argument even more valid than it already was, Fury was gone in a swish of dark coat, leaving Tony to try and figure out what the hell he was gonna do now. </p><p>+</p><p>Or, the one in which Tony finds himself fostering a kid and has no idea how to deal with it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> So, this story.  
> I must tell you, it's still a work in progress (as in, I just need to write the very happy ending and it's done, so don't worry. Much). Un-beta'd, so all the typos and mistakes are mine and mine alone. 
> 
> I've always loved the idea of a Super!Family, and here it is. Take our basically canonical couple in the Avengers, add a sixteen-year-old boy who's lost it all, add little bumps along the way, a few happy moments here and there… et voilà, les jeux sont fait!
> 
> The word count is huge and still going, I hope not for too long. The title to the story is a line I borrowed from the band Thousand Foot Krutch, from their song "Breathe You In."
> 
> Also, things you need to know before you start reading: huge what if, as in "What if Peter's family died and he was left an orphan". Fury is still Director of SHIELD, so this story doesn't take into account Coulson's death *cough*. I can't think of much more as of now, I promise I'll let you know as the story progresses. 
> 
> This said, thanks for reading. I really hope you have as much fun reading this story as I had writing it. Comments and feedback are always appreciated. 
> 
> xxx  
> C

Tony had always known there was something terribly wrong with Director Fury.

That man was badass, yes, but disturbing and terrifying at the same time. He had his own vision of the world and didn’t stand much those who were brave enough to disagree with him. Then, there was the missing eye thing, which was creepy and truly sounded exhausting, having to turn around every time just to take a look at things or people.

When Fury had called him in for a meeting of some sort, that same morning, Tony had immediately thought that something real bad was going on. He’d had no idea whether or not it had to do with the Avengers, if their intervention was needed, but deep down he’d hoped that was the case; days and months had passed from the Ultron incident, as to say; hours filled with boredom and nothing more. Tony had been spending a lot of time down in his lab, toying with his precious inventions and trying to think of something new, but truth was he hadn’t been able to think of anything. His brain was flat, which was exactly what usually happened to him when bored. That was no good.

Fury’s call had come unexpected, but relished nonetheless.

Tony had run down his wonderful and brand new tower, leaving Pepper in command of the company as per usual, and he’d flown all the way to the building that had once been the SHIELD Headquarters and Fury was now bringing back to its old splendour. He had flown, a missile in the clear blue sky, and landed safely less than an hour later; he’d walked the old familiar corridors busy with people, almost running towards the old Director’s office.

Which, he’d founded empty if not for Fury himself. And the madness had begun.

“Are you out of your mind?” Tony almost yelled, but Fury didn’t even flinch. He just stood there, tall and dark in his long coat, black eye-patch and serious face and all.

“You can’t ask me something like this, Director, it’s –“

“I’m not asking, Stark.” Fury sat down and kept on staring at him, and when he spoke again his voice was calm but firm. “My agents are extracting the boy as we speak. He is not able to control himself, and a simple orphanage wouldn’t hold him for long. It is our duty to take care of him –“

“You mean restrain him?” Tony snapped. “This is not –“

“He is a threat to himself and to those around him,” Fury talked on, nor bothered or impressed by his anger. “This is a temporary solution, until we manage to find a more stable one. I have sent for Doctor Xavier already, it is only a matter of time until he gets here; hopefully, he will help us taking care of everything.”

“God, Fury, it’s a boy you’re talking about, here!” Tony yelled, barely holding himself from slamming his iron fists on the glass table. “This is not a _situation_ , for fuck’s sake! It’s a boy, a human boy, and you can’t talk about him as if he were some sort of cargo you’ve gotta take care of.”

“Nevertheless, I need your cooperation, and I will have it.”

Tony sighed. He opened his mouth to tell the Director where he could shove his cooperation, then thought better of it and closed it shut; he walked around for a while, suit creaking at his every step. That wasn’t happening, it was just madness.

“Seriously, Fury, this is not gonna work,” he let out then, exasperated. “I can’t do what you’re asking, and I don’t give a damn if you’re not really asking. I can’t take the boy with me, I wouldn’t even know what to do with him. Take him to school? Cook him meals? Come on, I can barely take care of myself, less of all of another human being. Even worse, a teenager!”

“The boy will be delivered to the Stark Tower at thirteen hundred today,” Fury said. “Good talk, Stark.”

And before Tony could even think of adding something to make his argument even more valid than it already was, Fury was gone in a swish of dark coat, leaving Tony to try and figure out what the hell he was gonna do now.

 

*

 

The boy entered the Stark Tower exactly at one pm sharp, escorted by two agents in black suits with the most serious faces Tony had ever seen. They walked the boy all the way upstairs, right to the apartment on the very top floor, and when the elevators opened with a ding Tony found himself facing the mismatched trio. So, this was the boy.

He was young, thin and not as tall as Tony had somehow expected. He had big green eyes and messy brown hair, his jeans were torn at knee-level and he wore a Metallica t-shirt, which alone gained him some points on Tony’s personal score. A big rucksack lay at his feet, old and bumpy with whatever it was he was carrying with him.

Once inside, the agents nodded and left, as fast and as silently as they had come, leaving Tony alone with a kid he’d never seen before. Silence reined on the two of them for a little while, heavy and uncomfortable, and Tony nervously cleared his throat, trying to find something to say to him. Only, his mind seemed to be completely blanked out at the moment.

“So,” he said, staring at the kid who stared back at him. “I’m pretty sure you heard about me already, but I guess I’ll introduce myself for the sake of pleasantries.”

The kid didn’t seem impressed; if only, he looked bored, and angry.

“I’m Tony Stark, and this is my sanctuary. The most beautiful building in the city, if you ask me. And you are?”

“Outta here,” the kid replied as he turned his back on him, picked up his bag and started walking towards the elevator. “See ya.”

“Whoa, where do you think you’re going?”

Tony quickly outran him and positioned himself right between him and his easy way out. He couldn’t let him walk away like that, not even if he truly had no desire for him to stay; Fury would’ve wanted his head on a plate if only he’d let the kid run out, and Tony was fond of his head, he liked it to be in its rightful place.

“Back to my place,” the kid said, a spark of challenge burning in his eyes. “Nice of you offering to keep me here, but I’m not gonna stay. Sorry to disappoint you.”

Tony fell silent for a moment as he registered the shade of anger in the kid’s voice. He knew anger extremely well, he’d been dealing with that for most of his life; he knew what power could come from it, and he definitely knew how to keep his under control when needed. He had his little tricks to do that, but the kid? He had no idea of how to deal with such an emotion, just like Tony had had no idea when he was the boy’s age.

“Sorry to be one breaking it to you, buddy, but you’re not going anywhere.” Tony grabbed him by the hem of his shirt and walked him back to the living room, forcing him to sit on a sofa. “Fury made it very clear you’re gonna stay here as long as it’s needed, and even if I don’t find the option thrilling, there’s nothing we can do about it. So, I’m gonna show you your room, and the rest of the house; I’m gonna tell JARVIS to take care of you in my absence, and sure as hell I’m gonna make sure you don’t do anything stupid like leaving this place unauthorized. Are we clear?”

The kid sighed, annoyed.

“You can’t keep me trapped in here forever, you know,” he said almost matter-of-factly. “Maybe they didn’t tell you, but I’m pretty amazing, and I doubt your little tower will hold me.”

“Oh, boy, do you really think you can scare me?” Tony grinned. “I’m the master of douchebags, kid, your little tricks won’t work with me. And believe me when I say you will not be able to leave the tower unless I say so, and right now, I’m saying you won’t. What’s your name?”

“Why d’you care?”

“Because,” Tony said, trying to use a calm tone and not to sound as pissed as he truly was. “We are going to stay together for a little while, and I don’t like calling you boy or kid all the time. So, what’s your name?”

“Peter,” the kid said angrily. “Peter Parker. Happy now?”

Tony smirked.

“Very,” he said. “Now come on, let’s have a look at your room. I have a feeling you might like it.”

The look on Peter’s face suggested he begged to differ, but he didn’t say a word and lazily got on his feet. He picked up his rucksack and followed Tony out of the living room, down a corridor full of doors on every side; they took a turn left only to find themselves in another corridor, but before they reached the end of it Tony stopped. He opened a door and walked inside, Peter right behind him.

“So, what d’you think? Amazing, eh?”

Peter looked exactly like Tony used to when he was young, and angry, and his father would show him something pretty spectacular; he tried to maintain the raged expression but there was something hiding in his eyes, something that resembled surprise and astonishment. Tony decided to consider that a little victory and started walking around the room, showing Peter all the beauties it contained.

There was one double-size bed at the centre of it, a big wardrobe on the side, and on the opposite a door that led to a private bathroom; there were also a flat tv screen, one of Tony’s newest laptops and as many videogames as every teenager could ever dream of. Sunlight shone through the big windows on the farthest side of the room, colouring everything in gold and orange as it filtered through the red curtains Tony had chosen personally. He liked red.

“Not bad,” Peter said, trying to sound as annoyed as he could. He approached the television screen and inspected it for a while, moving then to the laptop on the huge desk.

“You know, all the wonders in the world won’t make this place less of a prison.”

Tony’s smile cracked a little under those words, only because he himself knew they were nothing but true. Fury had ordered him to keep the kid, _Peter_ , for as long as necessary, and had forced Peter to live there with him – no, not even his latest inventions were good enough to turn those living arrangements in something less unnatural.

“They won’t,” he said. “But it’ll help you keep your mind off of it for a while. I’ll let you settle down, I’ll meet you later in the common area. Ask JARVIS if you need anything, he’s always at your service. JARVIS? Help Peter feel at home.”

_Will most certainly do, sir._

Peter startled for a moment as he looked around the room to find the source of the voice. This made Tony laugh a little.

“JARVIS is an artificial intelligence,” he explained as he approached the door. “Very handy, I must say. Ask him whatever you want, he will have your requests looked after.”

Tony then left the room and closed the door behind him. As he walked all the way down to his lab, he couldn’t help but think that it hadn’t been _too bad_ for a start. True, the kid had some issues; he felt imprisoned, and he had every right to, and Tony knew he hadn’t acted too enthusiastic about the whole thing, but it could’ve been worse.

Peter was alone, and far from home, of course he felt angry and abandoned. He had been placed in an environment he didn’t know with people he had never seen before in his life, and that alone distressed him badly. Tony couldn’t really blame him for that, but still he had no idea of how to relate to him in a way the kid would understand and not perceive as hostile. He had been there himself, an angry teenager who thought the world couldn’t understand what he was going through, and really, were teenagers any different after all?

There was something though, something that made Tony doubt Fury’s intentions – wasn’t there ever? The man wasn’t to be trusted, or at least never completely. Fury hadn’t told him a word about what had happened to Peter’s parents, for instance; he hadn’t told him anything about what he was capable of, and it had to be something clearly spectacular if Fury had felt like calling Xavier about it.

The kid was a mutant, that much was clear by now. But what kind of mutant? What could he do that others couldn’t? And more importantly, what had Peter done for Fury to consider him a threat to himself and others?

“JARVIS, get me everything you can about this Parker kid,” Tony said as he walked into his lab and walked around some of the monitors.

_Yes, sir._

He took a small pack of dried apricots from his jeans pocket and crunched it for a while as he watched the programmes loading before his eyes. The research didn’t take long, and not fifteen minutes had passed before Tony saw a picture of a younger Peter on one of the screens.

“Good job, JARVIS.”

_Thank you, sir._

Tony put the apricots away and walked closer to the computers. He enlarged the picture that showed a young boy with bright green eyes alive with sparkly wits and looked at it for a moment; it was surely Peter, a few years back. His expression was relaxed and happy, so different from the one darkening his face now.

Sliding the picture aside, Tony focused on the file presented to him directly from SHIELD archives, no less.

 **Parker, Peter Benjamin**. Born December 31 st, 1999 in Queens, New York City, NY from CIA agents Richard and Mary Parker.

CIA agents, that was something.

As Tony kept on reading the file, a lot of things suddenly became clear. First of all, Peter had lost his parents when he was a toddler; he had been sent to live with his uncle and aunt, ones Ben and Mary Parker in Forest Hill, New York, who had raised him until, well, now. The SHIELD report declared them killed by a random thief not a month before, and the perp himself had been found dead a few days after the murder.

Tony’s eyes dropped a few lines down, drawn from the words ‘incident’ and ‘radiations’. Apparently, some incident had occurred when Peter’s school had attended a public exhibition about nuclear lab waste material, incident that had made a spider radioactive. The spider had bitten Peter and another girl before dropping dead to the ground.

SHIELD had been keeping an eye on the boy ever since, spying on him, and that was how they’d discovered what the spider’s bite had really caused. Peter Parker had been gifted with some sort of powers such as an incredible ability to cling to walls together with great strength and agility. So this was why Peter had gotten on SHIELD’s radar, and for a damn good reason too.

Dammit, Tony couldn’t believe Fury had decided to drop the kid on him like that. Peter was far more dangerous than he’d first thought, and how the hell was he supposed to deal with someone who was acting like a spider most of the time?

“JARVIS, call Director Fury immediately.”

_Yes, sir._

“What the hell do you think you’re doing, Fury?” Tony snapped as soon as the Director picked up. “Leaving a kid like that in my house? It was bad enough having to take care of some irresponsible teenager, but this! This is so –“

_I had no doubt you were behind the breach in our system, Stark._

“Don’t talk about stupid breaches in your stupid systems, Nick, and tell me exactly how the fuck do you think I can handle something like this.”

The line fell silent for a moment, and Tony wondered whether Fury was still there or had just hung up on him. That was definitely something he would do without thinking of it twice.

_Honestly, Stark, I think you might be the only one who can while we wait for Professor X._

Tony sighed and fell ungraciously on a chair. Fury had gone crazy, there was no other explanation. Tony understood that SHIELD wasn’t one hundred per-cent operative yet, he knew it was impossible for them to have the facilities or means to take care of a situation like that when they were still trying to rebuild what had gone lost, but. Fury couldn’t possibly think it was a good idea saddling him with a probably instable teenager.

“I have no idea how to –“

_Find a way._

The communication closed with a click, and Tony felt grateful he didn’t have a portable phone at hand to break, possibly against a wall. Fury was an asshole, that was it.

“JARVIS, take note: Director Fury is an asshole,” Tony said out loud. He actually expected JARVIS to do as asked. “He’s not welcomed in the tower anymore. He won’t have unlimited access, and make sure he won’t be able to override your protocols. Ever. Now, what should we do with the kid?”

_I believe you must present him with a good meal, sir. Youngsters his age need energy, which suggest carbs must be a part of his daily diet._

“JARVIS, have you been researching on what boys his age need?”

_Yes, sir._

Tony shook his head in disbelief. JARVIS was becoming more and more resourceful by the day, and he had never taken that into account. Still, JARVIS was once again proving himself extremely useful.

“Good,” Tony said as he eyed the clock on his monitor. “Do you think it’s too late for lunch?”

_I believe so, sir._

“Right. Maybe a snack?”

_That might be wise._

Tony nodded, mostly trying to motivate himself, and left the lab quickly. It was thirty minutes past two in the afternoon, and he had no idea whether young Peter had had lunch before SHIELD had picked him up from wherever it was he was staying. His teenage years were so long gone he truly didn’t remember what boys like Peter liked, or needed; if it were up to him, he would’ve fed the kid pizza and fries. He didn’t have any problem in feeding himself pizza and fries, so why should Peter?

Smirking to himself, Tony reached the door to Peter’s room and knocked once; when no reply came from the inside he knocked again, louder.

“Peter?” he called out. “Peter, is everything okay?”

From the room came nothing but silence, and Tony felt uneasy. What if something had happened to the kid? He hadn’t been there a day and there was already something coming up, how was that possible? Tony took a deep breath and knocked once again, silently hoping for a different result that didn’t come.

“I’m coming in,” he almost shouted as he grabbed the door handle and twisted it. The door opened silently and Tony stepped in the room, sunny and warm and empty.

“What the –“

He noticed then the window was open behind the curtain, and with a pounding heart he ran towards it. It was big enough for Peter to sneak out, but how had he –

“Dammit.” Tony slammed his fists against the window frame and looked down at the tower, noticing a movement only a few floors below. “JARVIS, get the suit ready. I’m going down to catch the son of a bitch.”

_Yes, sir. Suit activated and ready to use, sir._

Tony ran back to the corridor and all the way down to his playroom to find his favourite armour ready to embrace his body. He needed but to touch the sensors incorporated in his wristwatch and immediately felt the familiar coldness of pure steel surround him. He secured the mask and check the internal scan, and when he jumped out of the building the launchers activated as promptly as per usual.

It took him less than a couple of minutes to fly the perimeter of his own building and find what he was looking for.

Peter – well, it _had to be_ Peter, he was wearing some sort of red and blue suit and a mask – was climbing down the building as easily as a spider would have, jumping from here to there, window to window with a nimbleness Tony envied him a little for.

“You are so grounded, Parker!”

Peter looked up at him when Tony shouted, but he couldn’t make the expression hiding behind the mask; instead, Tony approached him as fast as he could and took the kid in his arms, ignoring his protests. He lifted him in the air, spider webs breaking as he did so, and flew all the way back to the entrance at the ground floor.

“What the hell do you think you’re doing?” Tony yelled as they landed lightly. He took off Peter’s mask with a twitch, then lowered his own. “Do you have any idea –“

“Fuck off, Stark,” Peter cut him off, spitting on the ground. His eyes were burning with rage, his face a white mask of anger. “Fuck you, and fuck your stupid SHIELD!”

“You’re grounded,” Tony barked as he grabbed his shoulder and forced him inside the building once again. “You’re grounded until I say so. You will have no television, no computer, no nothing to keep you entertained. You will stay in your room and think about the stupid thing you’ve done until you put some sense in that stupid head of yours, are we clear?”

Tony shoved him into the elevator without even looking twice at all the people around them; he didn’t notice the way they looked at him, or at Peter, and he certainly didn’t care. That kid had just given him half a hart-attack by running away like that, jumping down a building that high. He could’ve fallen off, he could’ve broken his stupid teenage neck and then what? Tony didn’t feel like confronting Fury about something like this, and he knew that if the Director had found out things weren’t gonna be easy for both of them.

“For fuck’s sake, you could get hurt.”

Tony sighed heavily as the kid by his side didn’t seem to pay attention to his words. Knowing now what had happened to him, Tony could easily understand the reasons behind his behaviour; he could, but he couldn’t let him get away with that. Whether he liked it or not, Peter was his responsibility at the moment, and he had to keep him safe. How could he do that when the kid was just gonna find new ways to run away? Fuck.

“JARVIS, lock down the windows in Peter’s room,” Tony ordered as he finally reached the corridor and together with the kid walked through the still open door. “He’s not allowed in the tower by himself, he’s not allowed to go outside, and today I want him in his room until I come get him myself, are we clear?”

_Yes, sir._

“Fuck you,” Peter hissed, and Tony felt something moving in his guts.

“One day you might even thank me for this.”

When he left, shutting the door closed and heading down to his lab again, Tony tried to erase the look in Peter’s eyes from his mind, unsuccessfully.

 

*

 

It was seven thirty in the afternoon when Tony came knocking to Peter’s door for the second time that day. New York skyline was slowly fading into shades of pink and red as the sun set over the city; the first stars feebly shone, overshadowed by the lights below.

“Peter, it’s time for dinner.”

When the door opened Tony offered a still angry Peter half a smile. He didn’t want the kid to keep fighting him, and he had decided that showing kindness was maybe the key to win him. True, it required hard work, but Tony was confident enough he could do it; he was, after all, one of America’s most loved men.

“’m not hungry.”

The door closed right to his face.

Tony opened his mouth to yell something, then thought better. He sighed, and he knocked again.

“I know you are,” he said. “Come on, I ordered some pizza.”

“Still not hungry, old man.”

That was impossible. Everyone loved pizza, every single person on the stupid planet, and no one would refuse a slice even when _not hungry_. So, Peter was lying.

Tony remembered when he was the one hiding behind a closed door, when he was the one thinking there was no way in hell his father would understand what it was that he was going through. He remembered what that felt like, that unpleasant sense of loneliness wrapping his heart tightly; he remembered how the anger was the only thing allowing him to put the loneliness away. It wasn’t real – maybe partly, yes, maybe it partly was, only because he had pushed people away and they had eventually left. Oh, he couldn’t see it back then, he couldn’t know, and the years passing by had taught him an important lesson.

No matter how lonely you think you are, there is always someone by your side if you only let them.

Tony realized he didn’t want Peter to make the same mistake – hell, he didn’t want any teenager to make the same mistake. He wanted to tell them it was okay to be sad, sad wasn’t always a bad thing but a phase everyone has to go through from time to time. He wanted to tell them that being sad would only make things look brighter in the end, when the clouds fly away and the sky goes back to its beautiful and natural blue.

He wanted to tell Peter it was okay for him to be angry now that he was alone in the world, now even the last members of his family were gone forever; it was okay, and it hurt, but things would get better in time.

“Peter –“

“I. Am not. Hungry,” Peter articulated loudly.

“Okay,” Tony let out. “Come find me when you are.”

 

*

 

Peter hadn’t gone out of his room for seven days straight.

Well, that wasn’t exactly true; Tony knew he _had gone out_ of his room in the middle of the night, sneaked into the kitchen and eaten some pizza when he thought everyone in the tower was asleep. JARVIS had informed him of the kid’s every move, and if at first Tony had thought to go meet him in the lounge, in the end he had decided not to.

Peter was going through something too huge for a kid his age. He was fifteen, had already lost his parents and recently he’d lost his aunt and uncle, too. He was literally alone in the world, and that, Tony knew it first-hand, was the scariest thing there ever was.

He was older when he’d lost Howard, when he had found himself facing a world he didn’t want to face. It hadn’t made it any easier.

No kid should be allowed to lose it all the way he and Peter had, just like no parent should be allowed to bury their own kids. Still, things like that happened all the time, and kept on happening no matter what Tony or whoever else thought about it.

No, Tony had decided to leave Peter some space, to help him adapt to the new surroundings the way he wanted to. He didn’t want to force him so soon, and maybe time was everything Peter needed to abandon that diffidence he was drowning in.

Fury hadn’t called once, not to ask about how Peter was doing and certainly not to ask about how Tony was dealing with the whole thing. It seemed like good ole Director had dropped the bomb and forgotten all about it, which was exactly what Tony would expect from someone like him.

“JARVIS, order me some Italian tonight,” Tony said as he stood up and arched his back, which resulted in some creaky weird noises from his bones. He was getting old. “And order some for Peter, too. Tell him dinner will be served at seven, and this time I want him to be there. Tell him he can go back to his room as soon as dinner’s over.”

_Yes, sir._

Tony left his lab after he’d been down there for something like thirty hours straight, and when he reached his own apartment he jumped in the shower and moaned when the hot water jet invested his body. He lingered in there for half an hour at least, maybe more, and was almost tempted not to leave the shower when he remembered Peter, and the dinner. So he got out, dried quickly and wore an old pair of jeans and a Pantera t-shirt together with his favourite sneakers, so old to and worn out he should’ve really thrown it away.

When he walked through the kitchen door, he didn’t expect to find Peter there so soon.

“Hey,” Tony couldn’t hide his surprise. “Didn’t think you were here already. How is it going?”

“JARVIS told me you wanted me down for dinner,” Peter said coldly. “And I can go back to the room as soon as I’m done. No need for pleasantries.”

Tony took the hit as quietly as he could, and acted as if nothing had happened. He took the steaming delivery and put it on the table together with two plates and cutlery, then divided the portions and left the rest of the food in the plastic containers.

“Fair enough,” he said, rolling his spaghetti carbonara with a fork. “No pleasantries.”

Peter seemed surprised by how easily Tony had given in to his request, but said nothing about it and started devouring his food as fast as he could, not even looking at Tony once. He took a second portion of pasta, then some roast and the fabulous tiramisu cake Tony loved so much.

“Can I go now?”

Tony didn’t rush in chewing his mouthful. He drank a sip of red wine and cleaned his lips with a napkin before looking up from his food and directly to Peter.

“You can go when I’m done, too.”

Peter opened his mouth to argue, then closed it shut; he gritted his teeth for a moment but remained silent, and fell back on his chair with his arms crossed.

Tony didn’t as much as look at him, but deep inside he knew that counted for something. Sure, Peter was ready to flee the room as soon as he’d let him, but he was still there now, still sitting, silent but present.

 

*

 

“I think you should go back to school.”

Tony eyed Peter from his seat on the table, and noticed a few contrasting emotions crossing his face in a blink. Peter looked scared, and sad, and somehow happy, as if going back to school was something he was partially looking forward too. He had been living in the tower for almost a couple of weeks now, completely isolated from the world outside. Sure, he had television (Tony couldn’t find it in his heart to deprive the kid from it, even if he had deprived him from videogames for a few days), but looking at the world through a screen wasn’t as living it at its full potentials. He bet Peter missed it, his normal life and his friends and maybe a girlfriend, who knew.

“Fury hasn’t said a word about it,” Tony talked on. “Well, if I have to be honest, Fury hasn’t said a word about anything lately. So, I guess I’ll be the one making this call. I don’t think it’s good for you to stay here all the time, and I know I can’t let you go out on your own because you might, and please notice the modal verb here, try to run away again, and you must know by now I can’t let that happen. So.”

Peter looked sceptical, but not angry. That was a first.

“So, I think I’ll find you a nice summer school you can go to since it’s almost June and yours is probably closing up for summer holidays already. What d’you think?”

“I think you can do whatever you want,” Peter replied dryly, and Tony shook his head no. That wasn’t how he was gonna play it, he didn’t want Peter to hate him for something he didn’t even have the right to decide.

“I _could_ ,” Tony corrected him. “But I won’t. You’re fifteen, you maybe cannot make your own choices yet, but sure as hell you have a say in it. Which is why I really wanna know what you think about it, and we can find something together.”

Peter fell silent for a moment, toying with his fork; his gaze and mind were lost somewhere Tony couldn’t reach, and he could almost _feel_ all the thoughts running through his head; Peter was thinking of what that meant, being able to help make a call that regarded him and him only. He was also thinking of what Tony meant by letting him, and probably considering the pros and cons that going back to school had; he was thinking maybe of seeing his friends again, of going back to a normal life that some incident and a stupid mugger had so suddenly took away from him.

“I’d like to think about it, if it’s the same to you,” Peter said finally, and Tony simply nodded. Half smiling and incapable of holding himself from doing it, Tony stared at the kid with something new in his eyes.

“Sure. And I was thinking… How about we go have dinner somewhere else tonight? You must be sick and tired of this place already, even if it’s the most beautiful place in the whole world, and trust me, I know.”

When Peter replied with an annoyed, “Yeah, whatever,” Tony decided it was enough for him.

“Cool, now go and read some book,” he told him. “Or maybe go to the gym, or do whatever you like, really. I do hope you won’t have me suiting up to catch you, and I truly hope you like shawarma.”

“Whatever you say, ol’ man.”

Peter put his bowl of cereals in the sink before leaving the kitchen, and Tony noticed he didn’t look as angry as the day he’d come there. He didn’t look happy either, but it felt like some of his burning rage was slowly wearing off, maybe to leave room for the bigger sadness the kid had ever known; Peter was going to truly understand his place now, everything that had happened to him was going to sink in and that, that was gonna leave him breathless for a long, long time.

But sadness was okay, sadness was just another stage of the acknowledgment Peter had to go through; sadness was gonna bring him a million tears to cry against his pillow in the middle of the night, it was gonna take his breath away with the strength of a natural disaster. Sadness was gonna beat him senseless, leaving him exhausted and strength-deprived on the cold floor of his room. It was okay, it was, because there was only one way to go from there, and the way was up. It wasn’t gonna be easy, but Peter looked like a kid who could go through all that and still rise victorious, stronger than ever before.

_Miss Potts on the line, sir._

“Thank you, JARVIS. Hey, Potts.”

_Hello, stranger. Haven’t heard from you in a while, I thought I would just check in._

Tony gave her a heart-felt laugh and could almost feel the soft smile stretching her lips.

“Everything’s fine,” he said happily. “I think we’re making some progress with the kid, or maybe I’m just going senile and don’t notice how bad things really are. Even if I truly believe the first option’s the right one. Anyway. How is it going, with running the company and all?”

_Alright as usual. Exhausting as usual. I need you to sign some documents about the new prototype we’re gonna present the Mayor, I’ll have someone handling the papers to you by tomorrow._

Tony started putting the dishes away and nodded, only to remember Pepper couldn’t see him since they were on speakerphone and not on a video call. Buggers.

“Right-o, I’ll sign everything and have it sent back to you ASAP. Happy?”

_Very._

Silence fell upon them, of the uncomfortable sort. Things were good, but not as good as they were before the break-up. True, they were still friends, sort of, but a lot of the complicity that had united them in the past was now gone, replaced by some awkwardness Tony had no idea how to overcome.

It was still them, after all, still wonderful them, with their wonderful way to deal with each other. Maybe it was gonna take some time, Tony thought as he crunched the left over cereals in Peter’s bowl; maybe if he was patient enough to wait things were going to go back to normal.

_So, this kid of yours. For how long is he gonna stay exactly?_

“Wish I knew,” Tony let out with a sigh. “Haven’t heard from Fury since the day the kid got here.”

_Any idea what Fury has in store for him?_

“Not really.”

Tony could almost see Pepper nodding to his words, her expression focused; he could almost see her biting her lips while thoughts ran streaming in her head, he knew her well by now. He also knew she was thinking on how exactly Fury planned on working things out, of what he would do with the kid after removing him from the tower. Tony had thought of that himself, and hadn’t come up with any possible solution; Fury was unpredictable and crazy after all.

_Okay. Keep me posted?_

“Will most definitely do.”

Tony heard the phone call ending with a metallic click and wandered around the kitchen for a while, drinking a third cup of coffee and loading the dishwasher, which was something he wasn’t used to. He never used the dishwasher, usually there was someone else doing it for him, the same maid that took care of the cleaning of the upper floors. Today, Tony loaded the machine all by himself, as he thought the poor woman had already a lot to do to keep up with Peter and the state of his room and clothes.

It was fun, cleaning the dishes of the leftover food and putting them in pile for the machine to wash; it felt like going through some familiar motions that weren’t familiar at all.

Tony refilled his cup with some more steaming hot coffee and walked to the couch where he collapsed ungraciously, eyes to the ceiling and mind elsewhere. Was he really going to take care of the kid’s education now? Fury hadn’t asked him, and for sure it was something he could avoid doing, but the point was he wanted to. Not just because Peter couldn’t stay locked up in the tower forever, but because Tony truly believed he needed to spend some time with kids his age. It was going to do him nothing but good, and maybe it could help make him feel normal again, however the turns in his life couldn’t disappear just by magic.

_Sir, there is a visitor._

“Whoever it is, send them away. I’m not in mood for seeing people today, JARVIS. I just wanna collapse on this couch for a few hours before starting to make some phone calls about Peter’s school. Clear?”

_Yes, sir. I will tell Captain Rogers you won’t be able to receive him today, sir._

Tony straightened from his lazy pose on the couch and jumped on his feet.

“Why didn’t you say it was Rogers, JARVIS? Send him up.”

Tony hadn’t seen Steve in quite a while now. They had parted ways after saving the world – _again_ –, Steve being with Natasha and Falcon and Tony going back to his most beloved New York. Tony had thought about him, him and the others, about how they were doing wherever they were and such; it felt weird not being around each other anymore now that peace was restored and the world wasn’t going to face any deadly threat soon. It felt weird not being in touch after spending so much time together, laughing or fighting or jumping at each other’s throats even.

The Avengers were currently disassembled, and Tony knew it was for the best things stayed that way. He knew it, it was obvious, still he couldn’t help but remember the time they spent together with a weird sense of fondness that wasn’t there before.

He missed them a little bit.

The elevator doors opened with the usual ding and Tony found himself striding across the room, impatient to meet an old friend and terribly happy to have the chance to. The very first thing Tony noticed was Steve’s half smile, as if he was thinking of something nice (rainbows and kittens, probably) that made his lips curl up in a cute way; then he noticed Steve’s eyes, as blue as they’d ever been, maybe bluer, bits of an ocean nestled in between long eyelashes.

Steve was wearing his street clothes, jeans and a shirt and that old leather jacket of his, and had never looked better.

“Tony.”

“Rogers.”

Tony put his mug aside without a second thought and stepped forward as the elevator doors closed behind Steve; he opened his arms almost automatically and Steve seemed quite happy to hug him back. They looked at each other for a moment, busy registering the simple fact they were together again after all this time, and there was a comfortable silence surrounding them like a warm blanket.

“Been a while, Tony,” Steve smiled. “How are you doing?”

Tony smiled back as he led Steve towards the lounge.

“Busy, as per usual. Apart from that, I’m doing great. How are the newest additions to our team doing down in DC?”

“They’re good,” Steve replied. “They still need a lot of training, but there’s great potential in each and every one of them.”

“And the Maximoff kid? Is he gonna be alright?”

Steve nodded.

“He’s already much better,” he said. “Sure, he needs time for a full recovery, but it seems he’s a fighter. It took him less than a week to go around on his own after the surgery, and the doctors have to put a lot of effort in keeping him still. He’s giving them a hard time.”

“If the news’ so good, why don’t you look happy, Cap?” Tony asked, not at all convinced by the look in Steve’s eyes. There was something he wasn’t telling him. “What is it? Spit it out.”

Steve sighed and took his head in his hands. That was probably the more fragile Tony had ever seen him, and he’d seen Steve when he was doing pretty bad after a battle. This wasn’t some physical wound that could be cured, it wasn’t the kind of weakness that came from getting beaten senseless by some bad guy. This was something that was affecting Steve’s emotions, and Tony knew him enough to understand those were the most dangerous wounds one could inflict him.

“Fury found out something about them,” Steve let out, looking right back at him. “About the twins. Something huge.”

“What is it, Steve?”

“They’re Magneto’s children, Tony.”

Tony opened his mouth and closed it again immediately. Magneto’s children? That couldn’t be. Of course, the twins’ powers were strong enough to kind of confirm that theory, but –

“ _How?”_ he asked, with the only result to make Steve chuckle.

“Aren’t you a little old for me to give you the ‘bee and the flower’ talk, Tony?”

“Ha-ha, so funny, Rogers. Look, I’m laughing.” Tony glanced at him and gave him one of his most horrible fake laughs, which made Steve chuckle even louder. “Seriously though. Who’s the mother?”

“She was Russian,” Steve explained as he regained his seriousness. “She’s dead, as you know the twins grew up in an orphanage.”

“And Magneto? Does he know about them?” Tony asked, and Steve shook his head no. “Good. That’s good, it gives us some more time to figure out what to do with them. Do they know?”

“Fury doesn’t want to tell them. They might decide to go after him, and we all know how dangerous that man is.”

“More like, completely mental,” Tony affirmed. “God, we are surrounded by troubled kids these days, aren’t we. I presume you know about Peter?”

Steve nodded.

“Fury told me. He kind of… well, he kind of sent me to check on how you guys are doing.”

“He did _what?_ ” Tony snapped.

Steve looked like he was expecting this sort of reaction from him, he knew him that well; he nodded slowly but kept silent for a while, giving Tony time to take it all out. And Tony did, oh, he did.

“He drops the kid at my door and doesn’t even bother to call. He said it was a temporary solution, and I haven’t heard from the son of a bitch since. This is –“

It was outrageous, that’s what it was. Fury was the worst bastard on the planet, and Tony was starting to get sick and tired of him and his orders; he couldn’t play with people like that, as if they were nothing but puppets in his hands and he the one who got to pull the strings. Because he wasn’t, and Tony couldn’t wait to tell him to his stupid, Cyclops face.

“Look, you’re angry, I get it,” Steve offered quietly. “I don’t know how _I_ would react to something like this. But the truth is, there is no other place for the kid to stay, Tony. Fury might be a son of a bitch, but he’s trying his best to find a more permanent solution, and do I have to remind you he’s rebuilding SHIELD from scratch? There’s a lot going on these days, and –“

“Why don’t let Peter stay with the Avengers, then?” Tony barked. “With the twins and you guys. It would definitely be better than to lock him up here with me, he’d be with someone his age and maybe, just maybe, things could be different.”

Steve sighed and shook his head with determination. When he looked up, Tony could see it in his eyes how badly he wanted to help, and how incapable of doing so he was. Steve was frustrated, and for the first time Tony noticed how tired he looked, drained of all his usual energy.

“The kid is dangerous, Tony. He’s a threat to himself and to others, how would you think it possible to let him stay with the twins? Anything could go wrong at any time, and what then?”

Tony jumped on his feet and ran his hands through his hair; his chest falling and rising, he looked at Steve right in the eyes and hoped he of all would get it, hoped that Steve would understand what Fury and everyone else seemed too busy or not enough concerned to see.

“Peter is not a threat to anyone, Steve!” he shouted. “For fuck’s sake, he’s just lost everything, literally everything, and yes, he’s troubled, but wouldn’t you be in a situation like that? Fuck, Steve, cut the crap already and see what we’re dealing with, here. Peter is a kid, just a kid; he’s no threat, he’s just going through a very rough time. He needs our help, and staying here might not help at all.”

“He’s not ready to stay with the Avengers, Tony,” Steve said. “He could be, one day, when he’s learned how to control himself and his emotions. He’s an angry kid, that can’t do any good to the group.”

Tony sighed in exasperation. He couldn’t believe Steve was on Fury’s side on this; Steve had gone through that kind of pain himself, he should’ve known better than to treat Peter as an outcast and point at him as a freak.

“Steve, this isn’t –“

Both Tony and Steve turned when they heard someone clearing his throat, and Peter was standing on the doorframe, arms crossed to his chest and an impudent look on his face.

“Am I interrupting something?” he asked, almost amused.

Tony took a deep breath and shook Steve an admonitory look before walking towards the kid with a friendly smile on his face.

“Not at all,” he said, stopping in front of him. “Just me and Steve catching up. Steve, this is Peter Parker; Peter, this is my friend Steve.”

Peter nodded in Steve’s general direction and his gaze wandered from him to Tony for a few moments.

“Hey, Peter. Nice to meet you.”

Steve reached them and stretched his hand for Peter to shake, and Peter did. He looked a little bit suspicious maybe, but played it cool anyway.

“Are you _that_ kind of friend?” he asked, and he gave a little laugh when Tony looked a little shocked and the tips of Steve’s ears turned of an indecently adorable shade of pink.

“Er, no,” Tony said quickly. “Not that kind, no. Just friends. Steve came to visit from DC.”

“How about you, Peter?” Steve asked, all nice smiles and bright eyes. “Has Tony managed to drive you mad yet? He has that effect on people sometimes. Well, most of the time, really.”

Peter’s lips stretched in the hint of a smile and he shrugged.

“He’s doing alright.”

“Good,” Steve nodded. “Give me a call if he gives you any trouble.”

“Will do.”

“Hey, you two!” Tony exclaimed. “I won’t allow you to talk about me in these terms, are we clear? Steve, you’re a horrible person. Peter, Steve’s a horrible person, never trust him. He’s too goody to be trusted, and this makes him horrible.”

Steve shook him an offended look but didn’t bother to reply. Instead, he turned to Peter and blessed him with another of his wonderfully bright smiles, to which Peter replied with a crooked one.

“Ignore him, he’s a terrible prima donna,” Steve laughed. “I was about to get some refreshing drink, even if Tony didn’t even offer. Join me?”

“Yeah, okay.”

Tony watched with wide-open eyes Steve and Peter walking away from him, talking small talks as if they had known each other forever. Maybe it was Steve, Tony thought with a hint of jealousy; Steve seemed to make everyone at ease with no effort at all, maybe because of the way he smiled or maybe it had something to do with the soothing tone of his voice, Tony didn’t know for sure. Still, Peter was actually _talking_ to him, fragmented sentences but sentences nevertheless.

Peter wasn’t smiling, but he was listening to everything Steve had to say and Tony could swear he’d seen the tiniest sparkle of interest shining in his green eyes.

“You plan on standing there forever, ol’ man?”

Tony got brought back to the here and now by Peter’s voice, a little bit sarcastic but shaded with a hint of something else, too. It was, Tony would realize later that day, a timid attempt of a conversation from Peter, his own way to reach out after acting like he had been the past two weeks.

“Not really, no,” Tony replied as he walked towards them. “And I definitely can’t let Steve go around without supervision. Did I mention how horrible he is?”

 

*

 

“So… this is shawarma?” Peter asked as he lifted the food and stared at it with a sceptical look in his eyes. “Looks like some weird kebab, if you ask me.”

“I didn’t ask,” Tony replied without even properly swallow his mouthful. “Now, eat.”

Steve scolded him a look and turned to Peter with a smile.

“What Tony means,” he said scowling at the genius billionaire, “is that this is really good. You should try it, and if you don’t like it we’ll get you something else. How about this?”

Peter looked hesitant for a moment; his eyes gazed from Steve to the food, back and forth for a little while, until he nodded and closed his eyes as he bit the shawarma. At first, he made a face as if he wasn’t even sure of what exactly was stuffed in that Turkish bread; he then carefully opened his eyes and chewed the food less hesitantly. Both Tony and Steve kept their eyes on him, silent and expectant, and when Peter finally swallowed he gave them a small grin.

“This isn’t too bad.”

“See? Told you.”

“And we can still get you some fries or a hamburger, if you’re still hungry,” Steve said.

The day hadn’t been too bad, Tony realized as he looked at Peter and Steve still engaging in small talks. True, he hadn’t improved the conversation much, mostly keeping silent and just staring at those two, but he felt like something had changed in Peter. He was less angry and more keen to spend time with others rather than just keep to his room as he had the past weeks; and yes, a lot of it had to do with Steve’s smiles and talks, Tony knew that, but he suspected that it had a lot to do with Peter needing time to get used to the situation, too.

Peter didn’t seem to still see him as a threat, as someone who had done horrible things to him, and Tony felt grateful for that; he didn’t want the kid to hate him for reasons that were only partially true, not when the situation had been nothing but an imposition on both of them. Tony hadn’t wanted Peter to go live in the tower, Peter hadn’t wanted to be locked up like that. It had all been Fury’s fault, they were both victims there, and maybe Peter was starting to get it.

Maybe Peter was also starting to understand how important it was for him not to be left alone in times like those, how vital it was to have someone who would take care of him and his needs. Someone who would be there in case he needed or wanted to talk, when the anger faded and more devastating emotions kicked in.

“Tony?”

“Yeah.”

Tony shook his thoughts away when he heard Steve’s voice and focused back on what was happening. They were having dinner together, they were spending time together, and Tony had missed spending time with someone else since he and the Avengers had gone separate ways; his complicated relationship with Pepper, or mostly the lack of it, had left him sore and a little hurt, and she had always been the only one he’d truly enjoyed spending time with. Now Pepper kept her distance, and his bunch of superheroes wasn’t to be put together any time soon so yeah, Tony had missed spending time with someone that wasn’t JARVIS.

He had been avoiding important dinners and work meetings, not in the mood for such stupid social events. What he needed was to be with someone who could understand him, who didn’t worship or hate him as everybody else seemed to do. Steve coming to New York earlier that day had been something Tony had been looking forward to for a long time.

“Wanna see if they still have that chocolate cake you’re, and I quote, madly in love with?”

“They still have it, grandpa,” Tony chuckled. “And they still serve that millefoglie pastry you can’t get enough of. I’ll go get it. Peter?”

“I’ll go with the chocolate cake, if that’s okay.”

“Excellent choice. Be right back.”

“He’s not that bad, is he?”

Peter turned to Steve, still sucking from his coloured straw, and shrugged.

“I guess he’s not.”

“I know he could be a little…” Steve fell silent for a moment, looking for the right word, then smiled. “ _Peculiar_. Tony is not the most normal person in the world, but I can tell you, he’s one of the greatest guys you’ll ever meet.”

Peter looked at him thoughtfully, as if he was trying to decide whether to believe his words or not.

“I’ve been a bit of an asshole, and he’s never complained,” Peter said slowly. “I guess you might be right.”

“Trust me, I am.”

“Steve, I had the chef put an extra portion of vanilla ice cream on your dessert,” Tony said as he got back to his seat, missing the look Steve and Peter exchanged. “I added some extra ice cream to yours too, Peter. Hope you don’t mind.”

Peter shook his head no and stretched his lips in the shadow of a smile that made Tony smile back.

 

*

 

“I had Rosita set a room for you, Capsicle,” Tony said as they sat in the lounge, their bodies full of an enormous quantity of food. They’d eaten so much Steve felt like he was gonna explode, and his jeans sure seemed to confirm his theory.

“I don’t want to –“

“No bother,” Tony cut him off as the sofa puffed under his weight. “Besides, it’s a little late to drive back to DC, don’t you think? I don’t wanna you falling asleep on that death-trap of yours.”

“Now who’s the grandpa,” Steve laughed. He tilted his head on a side as to be able to look at Tony, and smiled. “Thanks.”

“I just don’t wanna have you on my conscience, Capsicle,” Tony smirked. “So, that went well.”

“The dinner, you mean?”

“The whole day.”

Tony sighed and closed his eyes, rubbing them with his hands. The sofa was so comfortable he felt like he could fall asleep right there, sitting with Steve by his side; the noises from outside came muffled through the thick glass windows, softly laying in the back of Tony’s mind. It was soothing, relaxing, feeling life running down the streets, looking at it from afar.

“You were right about him, Tony.”

“Of course I was. I’m always right.”

“Now, don’t push it,” Steve laughed. “I don’t know why Fury doesn’t want him staying with the others, it might be actually good for him to –“

“To socialize with kids his age? Feels like I’ve heard that, somewhere.”

Steve gave him a sidelong glance and lightly punched his arm.

“So what do we do now?” he asked quietly, as if scared by his own words.

Tony returned the uncertain look in his eyes with a mirroring one and sighed, loudly this time. There wasn’t much to do but to wait for Fury’s order, as per fucking usual, and it was driving him crazy to think of the way the Director was ‘dealing’ with Peter and everything that concerned him.

“I don’t know, Steven,” Tony said in a low voice. “We’ll think of something, I guess? I’m not trusting Fury too much on this. I’m not even sure he knows what to do with Peter, either.”

“I’ll talk to him,” Steve offered with a bright sparkle in his amazingly blue eyes. “I’ll try my best to let him take care of the situation in the best way possible.”

“What a righteous man you are, Rogers,” Tony mocked him and held the impulse of ruffling his blond hair. “I need a drink. And after all that shawarma, I believe you need one too. Why don’t you pour us some whiskey from the bar? I’ll be right back.”

“Yeah, I definitely need a drink. At least I can still enjoy the taste.”

Tony got on his feet with some difficulties, the warmth of the sofa calling out for him; he ignored it. He turned to Steve, who was still half spread on the couch and looked like he had no real intention of moving any time soon, and gave him a little laugh. Tony offered him his outstretched hand and Steve took it lazily.

“Come on, Capsicle, let’s get you up.”

Tony vaguely registered the way Steve’s cheeks turned a little red, and then realized the poorly played wordplay. For some reason, he couldn’t laugh at Steve’s expression – shy, and shamed, and stupidly adorable. Steve was such a goody, in every sense possible.

“I’ll go check on Pete,” Tony said, hoping that ignoring Steve’s blushing would help make him feel at ease and forget all about it. “Don’t drink without me.”

“Yeah, okay.”

Tony tiredly plodded out of the silent lounge and right through the corridors that separated him from Peter’s room. He didn’t know whether the kid was asleep or not, but he still needed to check everything was alright. Something had changed, Tony could feel it; it wasn’t something tangible, more like an imperceptible shade in Peter’s eyes, in the way his lips curled up in a grin or smirk.

Tony was pretty sure that _thing_ , that little change was going to be there in the morning, but a deep and dark part of him was somehow scared to see Peter go back to his silences and bursts of rage. He didn’t even know why he was so scared, maybe because he knew that once you go back to the abyss a second time it’s not as easy to climb out; maybe Tony didn’t want Peter to fall back into the darkness when he was so slowly getting out of it.

“Peter? Can I come in?”

Tony knocked on the door, and Peter’s voice reached him in a sleepy tone. Tony pushed the door open and a dim light embraced him as soon as he stepped inside; Peter was sitting on his bed, a book on his lap and glasses falling down his nose. Tony smiled at the way Peter pushed the glasses back only to feel it slide down again.

“Didn’t know you wore glasses,” he said. “It suits you.”

“Makes me look like an idiot,” Peter mumbled, almost offended.

“Makes you look smart, if you ask me.” Tony stepped forward until he made it to the bed, and Peter looked up from his book with a grin. “What are you reading?”

“Physics. Found it with other books in the library.”

Tony nodded with a big smile. “So you like physics?”

“Yeah.”

“I like it too. Science is fun, no matter what some people think. And scientists, scientists are fun too, look at me.”

Peter laughed and shook his head.

“You don’t look exactly like a scientist.”

“But I am. Sort of. Maybe the mad kind,” Tony replied. “I’ll show you my lab, one day. You’re gonna love it.”

“We’ll see.”

Tony chuckled as he thought of what expression would appear on Peter’s face once he’d stepped in his lab for the very first time. The lab was amazing, incredible, filled with every piece of technology Peter could ever dream of, and that was gonna leave him speechless to say the least.

“So,” Tony said after a pause. “I just wanted to know if you needed anything before I go to bed?”

Peter looked surprised, and maybe a little sad. His eyes darkened for a moment, and Tony saw them humid with repressed tears. Maybe his aunt used to ask him the same, Tony wondered; or maybe his uncle, and this was just bringing a whole lot of memories back altogether with a sharp pain.

Tony wanted to tell him he was sorry, sorry about what had happened to him and sorry because he didn’t mean to grieve him like that. He wanted to tell him that maybe letting the pain out was the best thing to do to get rid of it eventually, but knew it wasn’t up to him to say so. Tony knew too well how people dealt with grief and pain, at their own time and terms, and there was nothing he could tell Peter that would actually help. So, Tony thought of something to say to change the subject and take Peter’s mind off whatever it was that was afflicting him right now.

“Er, so. Steve is gonna stay here for a couple of days, I hope you’re okay with it,” he said in an odd voice. “He asked me to tell you he’s going to the park tomorrow. Maybe you wanna join him?”

Peter shrugged, his eyes still wet but lighter, greener.

“Alright.”

“Good. I’ll – I’ll just go now. I don’t want him to finish all my whiskey without me.”

Peter chuckled and Tony smiled back at him.

“Are you sure you’re not a couple?”

“Good night, kid.”

 

*

 

“Steve, you’re taking Peter to the park tomorrow.”

“Er, okay?”

Tony smiled, took the drink Cap had poured them and joined him on the sofa where they sat in silence for a good half an hour before making it to their rooms and letting darkness fall around them.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “You should come with us tomorrow,” Steve said quietly as he followed Tony to the lounge. “I was thinking of taking Peter to the Hall of Science. I bet he’d like it, and I’m pretty sure it’s something that doesn’t bore you that much.”
> 
> Tony thought about the important meeting he had to attend the following morning. He thought of all the incomplete paperwork he still had to deal with, even if reluctantly; he thought of the blueprints Pepper expected him to analyse and work on, and of the pile of curricula the HR office had sent him almost a week earlier.
> 
> “Pepper will probably kill me,” he said as he approached the bar and poured himself and Steve a goodnight drink. “Breakfast at nine?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Lots of super!family feels coming your way! 
> 
> Hope you enjoy it ;)

“Good morning, Tony. Peter.”

Steve entered the kitchen the following day with a soft smile; he looked a little better than just the day before, a little less tired, the circle around his eyes a little less visible. He joined the others at the breakfast table and helped himself with some hot coffee under their sleepy gazes; Tony grunted something, too busy immerging his face in his mug to do anything else, and Peter tilted his head at him.

“So, Peter, how do you feel about going to the park with me today?” Steve asked while Tony passed him the sugar jar almost automatically. “It’s sunny and warm, some fresh air will do us good.”

“No. Running,” Tony muttered. He shook Peter an admonitory look to which the teen replied with half a smirk. “Iron suit ready.”

“Tony, drink your coffee and let me do the talking.”

Tony’s expression hardened as he turned to Steve, but the caffeine in his system wasn’t enough for him to keep on thinking straight. He scowled and focused back on his fantastic cup of fresh coffee; coffee was good, coffee wasn’t going to talk to him like a retarded child. That had always been Steve’s prerogative.

Tony lazily listened to Steve and Peter making small talks, while the first mostly did the talking and the latter replied in short sentences, rubbing the sleep off his eyes once in a while. He liked the sound of their voices around him, like some buzzing loud enough to keep him interested but not as much as to bother him. He wasn’t used to it. He wasn’t used to Peter talking at their breakfast table, and he wasn’t used to having people around at that time of the day.

Hell, he wasn’t even used to _sit down to consume his meals_ , if and when he did so.

Peter’s arrival had brought some changes to his life, changes Tony wasn’t sure he was ready for; he was pretty sure he didn’t want things to change, for he valued his solitude and personal space more than anything else in the world – and the kid, oh, the kid had just appeared from out of nowhere, materialized into his life only to turn it upside down. But Tony had to admit it was nice having someone around, just as it had been nice having the Avengers living in the tower with him; it was nice to get back to regular schedules like meals or even sleep hours. Sure, Tony still suffered from his long-time companion that was insomnia, but since he had to take care of Peter’s needs most of the day he found himself extremely tired in his evenings. If that was what having kids meant, Tony found it exhausting but also a little reinvigorating.

“Tony? Tony.”

“Hmm?”

Steve let out a heart-felt laugh as he poured Tony more of his favourite liquid drug, and Peter was smiling, too.

“I thought, maybe you want to come with us today?”

“Hmm.”

Tony shook his head no and ignored that tiny little part of him that wanted to say yes instead. Somehow, that little part was thinking it was going to be extremely good for him to spend some time with Steve and the kid, lazily sunbathing in the park and enjoying some fresh air. Well, that little part was probably right, but Tony was too busy to listen to it; there were the documents he needed to sign so Pepper wouldn’t threaten to kill him, and an incredible amount of lab work he had put off since Peter had arrived at the tower.

“Busy,” he mumbled, and maybe the look in Steve’s eyes hurt him a little. “Daddy’s got work to do.”

“I’ll go get my stuff.”

Peter jumped off his seat and started to walk away, only to turn on his heels not a few footsteps later; he took his cereal bowl and dirty plate from the breakfast and put it all in the sink with a loud thud, running then to the door.

“Don’t you think that maybe, _just maybe_ , it would be nice for you two to spend some time together?” Steve asked bitterly as soon as the sound of Peter’s footsteps was no longer audible. “You share the house, Tony, but I don’t see the need of acting like strangers.”

It took Tony a few moments to register Steve’s words and their true meaning. Was he accusing him of being bad at whatever kind of relationship he and Peter might, or might not, have? Was Steve truly accusing him of acting like a dick when he’d actually been the one to take the kid in?

“I don’t think you have a say in how I decide to spend my time, Rogers,” Tony hissed. “And I surely think it’s none of your business how much time I have to spend with the kid.”

When Steve’s gaze passed him through, it felt like someone had just stabbed him in the chest.

What Steve didn’t know was the Tony had put off two entire weeks of work to make everything easier for Peter; he had no idea how many angry phone calls Tony had had to pick up, nor how many important meetings he’d missed because he hadn’t thought it a good idea to leave Peter alone. Truth was, Steve knew squat of how hard the whole thing had been for him, and for the kid. He couldn’t just come over to visit and act like he’d known better because, hell, he didn’t.

“ _Fine_.”

“Fine.”

When Steve stormed out of the kitchen, Tony felt something vicious slither under his skin.

 

*

 

“You know, you didn’t have to take me around if you weren’t in the mood.”

Steve winced, freed from the stream of his thoughts in the most unexpected of ways. He stared at Peter for a moment thinking of what to say, of how to explain things that he wasn’t sure the kid would, or could, understand.

“I wanted to come here with you,” he said in a soft voice. “This park is one of the most amazing places I’ve ever seen, and this time of year the trees are at their greenest. I thought you might like it too.”

“Then why do you look like you’ve been hit by a truck? Twice.”

Steve sighed, but his lips opened into a smile almost immediately. Peter was smarter than he’d thought, a lot smarter; he was a good kid, maybe a little quiet, and definitely different from any kid his age, but he was good, Steve could see it in his eyes. He’d been hurt badly, and that was going to leave a scar too deep to ever heal completely, but he wasn’t hopeless. Peter was someone who would always come out as a winner, no matter the circumstances.

“Let’s say I’ve had a little disagreement with Tony. Some things are never going to change.”

“You fight often?”

“Sometimes,” Steve nodded. “It’s… well, it’s complicated.”

It was. What he and Tony had wasn’t easy; it hadn’t been easy when they had first met, it hadn’t been easy to learn how to work together and it had taken them long enough to figure out how not to kill each other in the first place.

Tony was everything Steve hadn’t expected him to be. He wasn’t anything like Howard, for instance, which had caught Steve off guard but wasn’t something he disliked completely; Howard was a clever man, and he was nice, but he seemed incomplete somehow, as if he wasn’t but a half of what he was supposed to be. Tony was even smarter than his father, but at a first glance he wasn’t as nice; he was cocky, and arrogant, and too full of himself – all qualities Steve hated in men.

But Tony was wearing a mask Howard had never felt the need to wear, and that had utterly destroyed the opinion Steve had of him. Tony wasn’t the idiot he would let the world see, and when the mask had fallen off Steve had seen a fragility he could have never expected. Tony was so much more than everything Steve had ever thought, and maybe it was a little easier now to try and keep calm, to breathe in and out and count to ten every time Tony did or said something so stupid that made him feel a surge of anger all of a sudden.

“You sure act weird for two guys who are just friends.”

“Friendship isn’t always so easy, Peter,” Steve said quietly. “Some friends you just get along great with, some others you fight from time to time. Some are just so different from yourself and you cannot really understand them, but somehow they are just so much like you that’s almost scary. It feels like… like looking at your reflection in the mirror, like looking at what you know best and noticing an incredible amount of small details you’ve never noticed before. That’s why you fight sometimes, that and because there’s no way you’ll ever be able to put anything into their stupid heads.”

A few fluffy clouds lazily drifted upon them, painting the sky with their cotton-like white colour streaked with shades of purple and pink. Steve looked up for what felt like forever, too enchanted by the smooth movement to notice anything else; he felt the urge to take his notepad out of his jacket pocket and let his hands free to try and capture the beauty so many people seemed to ignore.

“Is he really this hard to get along with?”

Steve laughed, heartily and out loud, head tilted back and eyes as bright as the sky above.

“He is, sometimes,” he said. “Tony is the weirdest man I’ve ever met. It feels like he lives on his own planet, with his own rules; seems like he looks at some sort of distant future you cannot see. He’s there with you and he isn’t, there’s something going on in his head even as he speaks. He just rolls in a different way, and it isn’t always easy to keep up with.”

“But,” Steve continued as he noticed a dark shadow clouding Peter’s young face. “But once he gets used to you, once he finds the courage to let you see the breach in his wall he’s the most loyal man you’ll ever find. He will do anything in his power to protect you, he will care for you in ways no one else will ever do. He’s not best friend material, or boyfriend material, or anything material really; he’ll never show how much and how deeply his affection can root. He’ll never tell you, but he will always be there when you will most need him, and that’s what matters.”

Peter nodded slowly but said nothing, and Steve could see there was something heavy in his eyes, he could almost feel it move in his small chest. It was doubt, and loneliness. And underneath it all there was just the littlest sparkle of hope.

Steve wanted to take that hope and protect it in his hands, like a candle flame; he wanted to shield it from the winds of fear as long as it was needed, and he wanted to see that flame grow wider and wider, he wanted to see it burn as bright as any flame would ever burn.

Peter was so much like the scared kid Steve himself had been over seventy years back. Scared and lonely and hurt, with no one in the world to care for him, and Steve knew how scary everything could be, he knew that cold and vicious feeling running in his veins. He had found Bucky, the only friend who’d stuck with him through thick and thin, and maybe Peter wasn’t alone as he thought he was.

Steve knew Tony enough to see the differences in his behaviour; small, insignificant differences that no stranger would have noticed, but he wasn’t a stranger anymore, they were way past that. Steve had witnessed to the slow and agonizing breaching of Tony’s wall once before, he knew the signs.

Who knew, maybe Fury’s decision to let Peter live with him wasn’t that bad, maybe it wasn’t only going to help Peter get back in track.

 

*

 

“That’d be all, Rosita. You can go home.”

“But _señor_ , I have not finished yet. The dishes, and the kitchen, there is still work to do before I go.”

Rosita’s accent scratched in that latino, but incredibly gracious way it always had; the r’s came out strong and sharpened, her sentences broken in an harmonious staccato that resembled passionate tango steps. Tony loved it all, even when the short, black-haired woman talked to herself in a language he could not understand.

“I’ll take care of the dishes tonight. Go home, Rosita, get a good night sleep.”

“I’ll help, I promise,” Steve said as he smiled to the maid. “I won’t let him destroy anything in the process.”

Rosita didn’t seem convinced, but Tony could see the tiredness in her deep chocolate eyes; she longed to go home to her family, to take care of them too, to spend some time with them instead of spending it with a stranger like she had for the past five years.

Her son was what now, fifteen? Maybe sixteen, Tony recalled; he’d met the kid once, and Rosita’s husband too. They were kind, the kindness you can read in someone’s eyes and not the faulty, faked one he was used to getting from strangers. He remembered how the kid had stared at his house, amazed and stunned, and when Tony had brought him to see his armour his eyes had widened in wonder and astonishment.

Rosita sighed, defeated and a little grateful, and Tony smiled softly at her.

“You help him,” she said as she pointed a finger at Steve. “And you, señor, you don’t stay up late. You do the dishes and go to sleep. I will clean the kitchen tomorrow.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“Buenas noche, señor Tony.”

“Hasta mañana, Rosita,” Peter said with a little smile on his face, and the woman caressed his cheek with a fondness typical of a mother before turning her back on them and leaving the tower as silently as she always got in.

“Are you really gonna take care of the cleaning?” Peter asked then, and Tony looked offended for a moment. Steve’s laugh only made it worse, of course.

“Of course I am. And you, kid, are going to sleep right after giving me a hand.”

Peter laughed, echoed by Steve.

“He offered to help,” he said pointing a bony finger at Steve. “You two don’t need me.”

“Go shower and go to sleep, Peter,” Steve said softly as he tilted his head at the door. “Tony and I can manage.”

Tony watched with a mix of incredulity and softness as Peter gave them a little smile and left without saying a word. He seemed relaxed, exhausted by the day out he’d spent with Steve; he had kept on yawning through dinner, his eyes glossy with tiredness and sleep.

“What the hell did you do to him to tire him like this, I wonder,” Tony mumbled as he started to get the dirty dishes and empty all the leftover food into the trash bin.

Truth was, Peter had been making incredible progress in the last few days; he had started coming down to the kitchen to consume his meals with Tony, then he had started to talk a little more and now, well, now he didn’t look as suspicious as he had since day one. Sure, there was still a lot to work on, but Tony perceived those small changes as a silent but powerful victory.

He knew Steve’s presence was helping a lot, too. Steve was just that kind of man, one you will always feel comfortable having around, a man who can just put a smile on your face even when the skies of your life are grey and clouded with an oncoming thunderstorm.

“We walked a lot,” Steve laughed. He took the dirty and empty dishes from Tony’s hands and put it in the dishwasher one by one, placing every piece carefully and strategically as not to unnecessarily waste precious space.

“Are you still mad at me for not coming along?” Tony asked completely out of the blue, handing Steve a couple of glasses to put in the machine, too. He didn’t look at the expression on Steve’s face, maybe because he didn’t want to see that burning disappointment once again that day.

Steve had stormed out of the tower at a fast pace that morning, and they hadn’t met until dinner. Not that the Captain had said or done anything to make guilt come back and hunt him down as a vicious liquid streaming together with his blood, but Tony knew that didn’t mean Steve had regretted anything he’d told him earlier that day.

And maybe, just maybe, Tony didn’t like the idea of Steve being mad at him, not after all the things they had been through together, not when Steve played such an important part in his life.

“I’m not mad, Tony,” Steve said in a low voice. “I still think you should have, but I’m not mad at you. I don’t think I’m able to be mad at you for long, expect when you do something incredibly stupid that puts us all in a mortal danger.”

“Let it go, Cap,” Tony sighed, hiding a smile. “Ultron is nothing but a memory now. A bad memory, of course, but nothing more than that. And face it, you couldn’t stay mad at me even then.”

Steve shook his head and closed the dishwasher while Tony rummaged through the cupboards to find the soap.

“No. No, I couldn’t.”

Tony gloriously re-emerged from his search, victoriously holding a bar of dishwasher detergent; he grinned at Steve and finally put the soap into the right compartment, then pressed the start button. It was, after all, a small victory. Rosita was usually the one taking care of all the cleaning, and she kept soaps and detergents in all sorts of different compartments – which didn’t make any sense, or at least it didn’t to him, who wasn’t as OCD as Rosita was when it came down to keep things in order.

“You should come with us tomorrow,” Steve said quietly as he followed Tony to the lounge. “I was thinking of taking Peter to the Hall of Science. I bet he’d like it, and I’m pretty sure it’s something that doesn’t bore you that much.”

Tony thought about the important meeting he had to attend the following morning. He thought of all the incomplete paperwork he still had to deal with, even if reluctantly; he thought of the blueprints Pepper expected him to analyse and work on, and of the pile of curricula the HR office had sent him almost a week earlier.

“Pepper will probably kill me,” he said as he approached the bar and poured himself and Steve a goodnight drink. “Breakfast at nine?”

Steve accepted the drink with a bright smile and something else in his blue eyes, and Tony felt lighter for a moment, the fight completely forgotten and erased from his mind. He sat down next to Steve and silence fell upon them, soft and comfortable, filled with all the words Steve thought of and didn’t say; Tony somehow knew it all, everything Steve wanted to tell him about Peter, and really there was no use for words now. He just knew, he knew how Steve had had a change of heart about the kid, how spending some time with him had helped the Captain understand what they were truly dealing with here.

And Tony was pretty sure there was no need for him to say how stupid he’d been in reacting the way he’d done to Steve’s words. Maybe an apology, yes, Steve surely deserved an apology, but Tony wasn’t great at dealing with this kind of thing. He didn’t know how to apologize properly, how to say loud and clear that he’d been wrong and stubborn. He just hoped Steve knew, with the same ineffability Tony knew the things Steve wouldn’t say, and maybe that was enough; maybe drinking quietly was all they needed. Maybe shouting and fighting wasn’t their only way of working things out, which struck Tony as weird and unexpected.

Since he’d met Steve, shouts and almost physical fights had been the only response they’d ever expected from each other. Now it was different, and of course Tony had noticed how his relationship with Steve had started to slowly change when cohabitation had been forced upon them and the Avengers (by Fury, it really seemed he liked to do that to people even when they were in danger of killing each other in their sleep), but still.

“Make it eight thirty,” Steve said, then chuckled at Tony’s disgusted expression. “It takes time to walk to the museum. The sooner we leave, the better.”

“Should I remind you I have cars, Rogers? Dozens of them. We don’t need to _walk_ anywhere.”

“Just humour me, Tony.”

Tony opened his mouth to tell him that _that_ required an incredible amount of humour from him, but the look in Steve’s eyes shut him up immediately. It seems like he was silently ask him to trust him, and Tony knew he trusted Steve more than anyone else in the world. He’d trusted him with his own life, and he would keep trusting him in every battle they were going to fight – this? This was easier than a battle, and a lot less dangerous, and yes, maybe Tony wasn’t used to live the life of a man jack, but Steve was. Steve didn’t have dozens of cars or an armour to fly him wherever he needed to go, he didn’t have his personal Happy to drive him anywhere; Steve was an ordinary man with an ordinary life, he was probably used to taking the tube and the bus and whatever other transport the city had to offer.

So, yeah, maybe Tony could trust him with something like that. Who knew, it could have been fun seeing things from Steve’s point of view for once.

“I will stop by at least three Starbuck’s for coffee, I think you need to know that.”

“I’ll get you all the coffee you can drink, I promise.”

Tony wanted to tell him he didn’t need _him_ to get his coffee – he was disgustingly rich himself, after all – but Steve knew that already, didn’t he? He was just being his usual, kind self, and maybe it was the first time in forever someone actually offered to pay for his coffee but it was okay.

“Don’t expect to win this easily next time, Rogers.”

“I won’t.”

Steve smiled and sighed, the whiskey in his hands. He sipped the amber liquid and relaxed against the sofa, letting the cushions absorb him in; he tilted his head backwards and rested it against the soft and fresh cotton, eyes now closed and a peaceful expression on his face.

“You look tired, Rogers,” Tony noticed with a little smile. “Go to sleep.”

“Soon. Let me just enjoy this for a while.”

At first, Tony thought Steve was talking about the whiskey – which was stupid, because Steve could have brought the glass with him to his room to sip it later. Then, he thought Steve was referring to the sofa – which was unbelievably soft and comfortable, a fresh hug around tired bones, but that was stupid too. Every bed in the tower was utterly _perfect_ , with mattresses soft but not too much and capable of adapting to your body as if built around it.

It took him a few moments to realize what it was that Steve was actually talking about, and when he looked around Tony couldn’t say he disagreed with him.

The lounge was immerse in a semi darkness softened only by the light of a coloured glass lamp placed on the bar counter, which casted morbid shadows all around the room; a few feet behind them, a yellowish light came from the kitchen door left ajar and the silent was the only noise around. It felt cosy and familiar in ways the tower had never been, quiet and asleep but terribly alive. It felt as if the room itself was adjusting to its inhabitants while the sleep threatened to close their eyes and the night brought its usual, somehow less cold darkness.

“Make me some room, Rogers. And try not to fall asleep, or to spill the whiskey on the sofa.”

Steve let out a quiet, tired laugh and shifted a little to the side so that Tony wouldn’t be sitting in a corner and could find himself a more comfortable position, too. Steve spread his arm over the sofa and put his feet on the low coffee table in front of him while Tony moved and shifted until he was satisfied. Steve’s fingertips brushed lightly against the back of his head when Tony tilted it back and he closed his eyes, breathing deeply and calmly.

Steve moved his fingers in small circles and Tony let out a moan of appreciation when they touched the point where all of his headaches seemed to come from, right above his hairline.

“I might hire you to massage my head, Rogers. This could be a very profitable job for you, when we’re not too busy saving the world.”

“What, like this?”

Steve applied just a tad more pressure on the spot and Tony felt a shiver run down his spine. That touch could truly massage all of his headaches away, or at least he was truly convinced it could, for Steve’s fingertips were warm and light against his skin, delicate despite the size of his hands.

“ _Exactly_ like this.”

Steve laughed and said nothing more, and when Tony felt his own eyes heavy with sleepiness Steve’s hand was still on the back of his head, safe and warm and comfortable.

 

*

 

“Here, sleepyhead.”

Tony mumbled some disconnected words and tried to open his eyes. He shut them again when sunlight coming from the big windows hit them, strong and bright.

“’Time is it?”

Eyes semi-closed, Tony noticed the smile on Steve’s face as the other man handed him a cup of freshly brewed coffee. He took the cup in his hands and felt it hot to the touch while a strong aroma hit his senses.

“Eight fifteen,” Steve said, his voice low and quiet. “Go take a shower, I’ll make us some breakfast. Could you wake up Peter while you’re at it?”

Eight fifteen. Eight fifteen in the freaking morning. It had been a long time since when Tony had had to wake up this early, and it had only happened because of some work thing or another. A meeting, maybe, that sounded about right. Eight in the morning, it just wasn’t right, was it? That time of the day was to be spent sleeping comfortably in bed, not wandering around with a zombie-like expression. Besides, Tony was well known to be more of a nocturnal animal, he didn’t like early mornings.

But then the Hall of Science came to his mind, and every tile fell into place. He’d promised Steve to go with him and Peter, _early in the morning_ because Steve wanted to walk all the way there. Madness.

“Yeah, right.”

Tony sipped his coffee in sacred silence while observing Steve walking to the kitchen; he heard some noises, the fridge door opening and closing again, plates being put on the table and such. It occurred to him only then that he’d slept on the sofa, and probably Steve had too. They were so tired they hadn’t made it to their rooms, and even if his back seemed to protest Tony felt rested and relaxed.

He got up and wandered around barefooted for a few moments. He approached the window and let his gaze stare at the beautiful view outside, where New York was alive with people and cars and shops and noises. Everyone seemed to be awake at that time of the day, and for a moment Tony wandered if that wasn’t so bad after all; sunlight washing over buildings and streets gave everything a little magic touch that he’d never noticed before, and the whole city seemed to be coming to life from an oil painting some unknown bloke had created out of nowhere.

From the kitchen came a delicious smell of fried eggs and bacon, and the stronger one of toasted bread. Tony could almost taste the crunchiness of the bread crust, the salty and a little burnt bacon and the omelette Steve was cooking, and all of that reminded him when the Avengers had shared the tower; Steve had been making breakfast every day back then, smiling and humming to himself as he did so, and maybe Tony missed it a little bit. It had felt so nice to wake up to the smell, to come down to the almost empty kitchen and share the meal with Steve and Natasha, who sometimes liked to sleep until late while Bruce and Clint were somewhere else, in the lab or down to the gym.

“Tony.”

Tony woke up from his trance-like state and jumped a little when Steve’s voice brought him back to the here and now. He shook his head as to shake the sleep off of him and nodded, half conscious Steve couldn’t actually see him from where he was standing. The cup firmly held in his hand, Tony walked out of the lounge and down the corridor that separated him from his bedroom and private bathroom. Once he got to Peter’s door he stopped and knocked once, lightly.

Peter was probably still sleeping, swallowed up in a world that Tony hoped to better than the one he was living in; a world where all those bad things hadn’t happened to him, a world in which he was as happy and careless as every teenager should be.

“Pete, I’m coming in,” Tony muttered to the closed door, then pulled the handle and opened it slowly. The room was immersed in a dense darkness, the curtains closed shut to keep the sunlight out; Tony advanced cautiously, stumbling upon shoes and whatever else it was Peter had left on the floor. Cursing under his breath, Tony finally made it to the opposite side of the room and opened the curtains as little as he could, letting a few sunrays coming in as to help him through that minefield.

Peter mumbled in his sleep and rolled over as to lie on his stomach, pressing the pillow hard on his head. Tony couldn’t help but chuckle in the silent room, as he knew exactly how the kid felt in that very moment. He too would have liked much more to be still in his bed, but Cap had a different plan for them all.

Tony approached the bed and sat down on the edge; he gently poked Peter’s shoulder with the only result to make him mutter something unclear in his sleepy voice.

“Come on, Pete. Time to get up. Steve’s making breakfast.”

Peter peeked from under the pillow with one eye open, then of course turned his head the other way.

“Eggs and bacon, Peter. The best omelette you’ll ever taste, Steve is that good. Up, now.”

Tony grabbed the pillow and pulled hard, taking it off Peter’s head and throwing it to other side of the bed. Peter complained and sighed, annoyed and a little angry; he rolled onto his back and gave Tony a homicidal look, then shifted onto a sitting position.

“There, there,” Tony smirked. “I feel you, kid, but Steve is really really excited and looking forward to visit the Hall of Science. We can’t disappoint him now, can we?”

“Yeah, right.”

Peter rubbed his eyes and noticed the cup of now lukewarm coffee in Tony’s hands; he grabbed it and stole it from its righteous owner, then sipped it avidly.

“’the hell,” he said as he made a disgusted face. “No sugar, are you crazy?”

Tony got his coffee back and held it tight this time.

“Real men don’t put sugar in their coffee, kid. You’ll understand when you grow up. Now come on, I bet those omelettes won’t stay hot forever. I need to shower, I’ll meet you in ten for breakfast. And don’t you think to go back to sleep, I’ll have JARVIS annoying you to death until you leave this room.”

“Whatever.”

Tony grinned as he ordered JARVIS to make sure Peter would go and meet Steve in no more than ten minutes, then left the chaotic room to walk to his own. The shower jet on his skin and body felt amazing as a cuddling massage, pressing hard on all the right spots and washing over the tiredness and sleep; he would’ve stayed in there forever if it was up to him, but Cap demanded his presence and there were chances that day was gonna be incredible.

Tony wasn’t used to this kind of thing – taking a kid to the museum, act as if he wasn’t the genius billionaire everybody knew – but he had to at least try. He also thought he could reintroduce to Peter the topic of a summer school, and maybe take a look at that list Pepper had emailed him a couple of days earlier.

Pepper. The meeting. Dammit.

“JARVIS, call Miss Potts immediately,” Tony yelled from the shower. He quickly got out, immediately regretting it, and wandered around his room with a towel around his waist. The phone rang a few times before Pepper’s sharp voice spread loudly around the room and Tony stopped with his Black Sabbath t-shirt in his hands.

“Hey, Potts,” he warbled, adorable and sweet. “How is it going?”

_Tony, are you going to miss the meeting?_

Dammit. How could that woman always know everything even before he did? Maybe she was a clairvoyant, she had to be. There was no other explanation.

“Don’t kill me, Pep,” Tony begged. “Steve and I had a small fight yesterday, I’ll spare you the details. He thinks it’d be nice if I spent more time with Peter, hence we’re taking him to the museum today.”

Tony clearly heard Pepper sigh in despair; he could almost see her shaking her head, hands pressed to her temples to fight the upcoming headache. She was going to be mad at him for a day or two, but she was so made of awesomeness she was going to save the day anyway, excusing him with the important businessmen he had to meet.

_I want a pay raise, Tony._

“Yes, sure, whatever you –“

_I’ll be there in five to save your stupid ass. At least make it worth it._

Before Tony could even think of a reply the phone went dead and he found himself alone with his t-shirt once more. Not only was he going to raise her salary (which was already pretty incredible), but he was also going to find someone to build a statue of her in the ground floor of the Stark tower. That sounded about right.

Pepper was saving his life once more, and even if she’d sounded royally pissed Tony knew she wouldn’t bear a grudge against him forever.

Relieved, Tony left his room and walked back to the kitchen where Steve and Peter were sitting at the table, consuming their breakfast. Peter looked sleepy, all puffy eyes and big yawns; Steve was amiably talking to him, filling his glass with fresh orange juice and serving him an extra portion of bacon. Tony didn’t realize he was standing still on the doorframe, silent and amused from the view presented to him, until Steve looked up from his food and met his gaze with a smile. He looked so relaxed, so _happy_ that Tony couldn’t help but smile back at him. He’d never seen Cap like that and he thought it was absurd and stupid, because Steve looked amazing with a smile on his face while sunlight was hitting his blue eyes. He truly looked like America’s Golden Boy, a perfect and adorable man who would make your day a little brighter by just crossing you in the street.

“I made you some more coffee, thought you might need it,” Steve said and Peter turned to look at him.

“Definitely, Rogers. You make my day.”

Tony took a seat at the table under Peter’s curious gaze and gladly accepted the coffee Steve was handing him together with a plate full of fantastically smelling food.

 

*

 

As they passed by a small Starbuck’s Tony, who looked like he was in the grip of withdrawal symptoms, dragged Peter inside. Steve laughed as he followed them through the shop and to the counter where all kind of different sweets looked back at them, winking deliciously.

Peter snorted, annoyed by the delay and impatient to get to the museum since Steve had insisted on waking him up super early in the morning, but the sweets were truly capable of working their charms on him too and he found himself staring at the display cabinet, almost drooling.

He vaguely registered Steve and Tony talk about the sweets (chocolate muffin or velvet cake?) and pretty much ignored them. Steve had been staying with them for only a few days now, but it really seemed like he and Tony had something deep going on; they talked and smiled and fought like an old married couple, and Peter wasn’t exactly sure they weren’t.

“Tony, you love chocolate, but this is _too much_. You’ll find it disgusting and waste it before you have the chance of eating it whole.”

“Nonsense, Rogers. You’re a big fat liar.”

“Fine, do as you wish. Don’t complain about it later.”

Peter shook his head and left them arguing about the food; he moved to the counter instead, where a good-looking young woman was waiting for him. The smile on her face looked genuine, and Peter thought the dimples in her cheeks were absolutely adorable; she was wearing the black t-shirt and jeans every employee had to, and her hair was as black as a starless night, but streaked with a bright pink.

“Hello, there. How can I help you today?”

“Hi,” Peter smiled back. “I’d like a cinnamon bun and a caramel macchiato take away, please.”

The girl pressed some buttons on the register to note his order, then looked up at him with the same gracious smile.

“Anything else for you?”

“I’m good, thanks,” Peter said. “I’m not sure about the old men, there.”

The barista followed his gaze until she found Steve and Tony, still arguing over some stupid food or another.

“Do you want to wait for your dad or…?”

Nobody had said anything about a dad, Peter thought – but, oh, maybe the old man thing had misled the girl a little. Peter opened his mouth to tell her that no, that Tony guy wasn’t his dad and neither was Steve, when he thought better of it. After all, those two could definitely look like a couple to anyone who didn’t know them – and, Peter could bet on it, to the ones who knew them, too. Besides, they had pretty much forced him out of his bed at an ungodly hour, they surely deserved a little payback.

“Er, let me ask them,” Peter said, and he noticed the barista’s smile faltered a little. “Hey, Dad. Pops. Are you ready to order? This adorable lady is only waiting for you guys to make up your mind.”

As he had expected, Peter saw confusion in Tony’s eyes and in Steve’s too; they looked lost for a moment, as if they didn’t expect anyone to call them out as a couple and definitely not Peter, who for sure wasn’t their son. They awkwardly looked at each other for a moment, a little embarrassed and short of words; then Tony, who Peter suspected was incredibly good at gaining back control of every uncomfortable situation, Tony gave him and the barista a charming smile and put his hand on Steve’s shoulder, guiding him to the till where Peter was standing.

“A vanilla latte for him, and a tall Americano for me, thank you. And I’ll have a piece of your fabulous chocolate cake.”

“Americano black or white?”

“White, please,” Tony smiled again. “Peter, you good?”

“Yeah, I’m done.”

“Then that’d be all.”

Peter grinned at Tony’s savoir-faire, which had just saved him the embarrassment and granted him the favours of the beautiful barista; the man really knew his shit, and Peter thought maybe he could learn from him a little – after all, he was just terrible when it came down to talking to girls. They were just different beings, that was.

He didn’t miss to notice the way Steve’s cheeks and ears had turned of an adorable shade of pink, too.

 

*

 

The Hall of Science was a huge museum that didn’t attract Steve much – not because he wasn’t interested in science, he was, but he couldn’t get the hang of all the progress mankind had gone through the years he’d been sleeping. Peter, on the other hand, seemed to find everything just fascinating; the mathematics exhibition had him staring with eyes open wide and bright with excitement at every kind of model and reproduction he stopped by.

Tony followed him around closely, explaining in few and simple words what each and every one of the exposed objects was for, and he looked surprised when Peter started talking back to him in a language Steve couldn’t understand; he watched Tony’s expression lighten as he engaged in a more enlivened dissertation about this or that thing.

Steve walked a few steps behind them, interested in Tony’s explanations as long as he kept them easy for him to understand; when he wouldn’t, Steve would just wander around on his own, hands in his pocket and baseball hat hiding his face.

When Tony dragged them to the theatre at the upper level and paid for all the three tickets, Steve found himself in front of a movie screen with 3D glasses up his nose. He watched in fascination as the whole history of the universe itself projected before his eyes and all around him; he found himself landing on Mars and in the middle of meteor storms, pieces of stars falling and crashing at his feet. Peter loved it; he grabbed Tony’s arm once when a particularly huge meteor fell incredibly close to him, making him startle on his chair. Steve laughed quietly and Tony turned to look at him with a grin on his face, and when he spread his arm over Peter’s chair to nudge the back of Steve’s head, he shivered a little.

Peter insisted in watching another 3D movie right after that, both Steve and Tony being quite happy to follow, and they watched a short documentary film on how life existed on other planets and Asgard was one of them; Thor’s landing to the planet Earth had awaken consciousness in people, and scientists who were at first considered mad or untrustworthy were now valued more than others. When Tony caught glimpse of Thor’s red cape and Mjolnir he laughed out loud with the result of dozens of faces turning to him, a little angry. Of course he didn’t care much, and Steve thought it was because he was probably used to being stared at.

Tony was just that kind of man, Steve realized as he watched a phone-made video of the battle in Times Square; the kind of man who didn’t give a damn about what other people seemed to think of him, a man who wouldn’t repress himself or his emotions and jokes even if that meant upsetting, or more likely, embarrassing others. Tony didn’t do it on purpose, he just rolled that way; he wasn’t mean, nor he intended to be, he was just Tony, and there was nobody else on the entire galaxy who was even a little like him.

Steve felt a little dizzy when they finally left the theatre, the memory of meteors and planets turning around him still fresh in his mind, and he decided it was a good time for a break. He pretty much dragged Tony all the way to the dining area in the lower level of the building, going for a quick lunch at a big Pret a Manger; Tony didn’t seem enthusiastic but he followed anyway, letting him lead the way.

Even when presenting the cashier with his sandwich and ordering his food Peter couldn’t stop babbling about how _awesome_ it was that there was actually life on other planets, life mankind couldn’t probably even dream of; he talked about how he imagined Asgard would be, and then of how amazing it’d be to go explore the place where the Chitauri had come from, a few years earlier. Tony winked at Steve once and agreed to tell Peter everything about the battle that had assemble the Avengers for the first time, indulging a little on how obnoxious he had perceived Captain America at first; he told Peter how that weird bunch of superheroes didn’t seem to work, and how they had finally found the strength to learn to cooperate as a team.

Naturally, Peter and the rest of the world knew both Iron Man and the Hulk’s true identity and could only guess the other Avengers’, and Peter even found the courage to ask him about it, but. But Tony never disclosed who was hiding behind the star-spangled costume, and eyed Steve a couple of times to make sure the argument wasn’t making him too uncomfortable.

It was, a little. Steve didn’t like much the idea of other people knowing who he was and what mask he wore every day; he didn’t like others messing with his life like they had always done with Tony’s. He valued his privacy the most, and even if that alone was a great support to his argumentation Steve knew there was more. He didn’t like others knowing who was hiding behind the mask because he was firmly convinced that it would have, one way or another, made his job a lot harder. He was putting himself on the line with all the Avengers, that was everything people needed to know about them.

Tony knew it, of course. Well, he didn’t actually _know_ it, more like _sensed_ it, like he always seemed to know things about Steve or about how he felt and why without even asking him.

“Rogers, are you still with us?”

“What?”

“Peter wants to go for round two,” Tony said with a soft, affectionate smile Steve had rarely seen stretching his lips. “You up for it?”

“Sure.”

“I need to use the restroom, I’ll meet you guys right outside.”

Tony patted him on the shoulder and left him alone with Peter, who looked better every day. Steve knew it had only little to do with him and it was all thanks to Tony instead, still he couldn’t help but notice how amazing all those small changes were in Peter’s behaviour.

Tony had told him how difficult it’d been the first few days, maybe even couple of weeks; he’d told him how hurt Peter was, and how abandoned he felt, which was enough to justify the doors slammed to Tony’s face and Peter’s seemingly destructive behaviour. Steve hadn’t believed when Tony had told him Peter was no danger and needed help instead, and oh, had he been wrong.

The day he’d arrived at the tower, Peter was already friendlier than Fury had ever let him believed; he was a little diffident and suspicious maybe, but that was expectable from him. Steve had immediately noticed how that suspicion didn’t extend to Tony, to which Peter looked up with a mix of curiosity, fear and thankfulness; Steve doubted Tony knew it, but Peter was really getting used to have him around, which was what scared him the most – not that the kid would ever tell him, Steve had also noticed how alike he and Tony seemed to be when it came down to share their emotions.

“You don’t seem to like science much,” Peter observed as he shook him a curious glance, and Steve shook his head.

“I do,” he said. “I don’t understand it, but I do like it. I believe it’s incredible what humanity can do, creating all those things from nothing or even getting the grasp on inexplicable things like the universe itself. It’s truly amazing.”

Peter shrugged, not really convinced from his argument.

“Seems like you’re here for _him_ , not for science,” he said nonchalantly. “But maybe I’m wrong.”

Steve fell silent under Peter’s falsely innocent and scrutinising gaze, looking back at him while words seemed stuck in his throat. He tried to dignify his allusion with a smile, but when Peter grinned back at him Steve knew he wasn’t buying it. Not that there was something to buy – well, not exactly.

Of course Steve had wanted to take Peter to the museum, and _of course_ he’d wanted to go there with Tony, too. He thought those two needed to spend some more time together, quality time like merely sharing the house would never be – and he wanted to be right there with them to silently watch something change before his eyes. Steve wanted to be the one getting to witness that slow and incredible process where Tony pulled down his wall and Peter would do the same, finally realising how much in common they truly had; he wanted maybe to be the only one, because nor Fury or anyone else would notice all those little things going on between the two of them like he would.

Steve knew Tony better than he’d ever hoped to get to, he knew him much better than Howard and all the other Avengers excluded maybe Natasha, with whom he’d spent a huge amount of time. He knew Tony even when Stark wouldn’t tell him all those fears and anxieties he felt deep down, which alone was the reason Steve wanted to be there for him in the first place.

Tony was… well, incredible. A genius, as he himself wouldn’t ever miss the chance to point out; he was smart, and funny, and a great companion on the battlefield, but he was also so much more than that. Tony was hurt, and Steve suspected it all had to deal with his relationship with Howard; he felt inadequate sometimes, and Steve noticed only because his eyes would darken and his voice would scratch at the back of his throat. Truth was, Tony was scared – just like Peter was; scared to lose everything once again, scared of not being accepted for who he truly was, which was why he would act like a douche most of the time.

“When I’m around it’s always for him, Pete,” Steve said softly. “I will always be here for him, and I suspect he will always be there whenever time comes I need him to be. It wasn’t always like this, but it is now. That’s what friends are for.”

Peter looked a little sceptical and shrugged his answer off.

“So you’re not in love with him?”

Peter’s bluntness hit him like a punch in the guts, and Steve found himself almost literally gasping for air. Kids these days were so different from kids back in the forties; back in his time, no one would have ever asked something like this, something this private and sensitive. But of course times had changed, and the new generations of youngsters were more direct than Steve would ever let himself get used to, more straight to the point than every man in the society of decades before.

“Never mind,” Peter continued when no reply came. “We should go meet him outside, the movie about digitalization starts in ten.”

Steve managed to nod at Peter and followed him through the small crowd and out of the shop, where Tony was already waiting for them with a couple of carton cups in his hands.

“Here, caramel latte for you, young sir,” he said as he handed one of the cups to Peter who accepted it gladly. “And vanilla latte for you, Rogers. I took a few sips, I can’t really understand how you of all people manage to drink something like this. It’s basically sugar with some mild flavour.”

Steve laughed lightly as he took the cup Tony was now offering him and sipped his drink with a satisfied moan. He smiled his gratefulness and Tony waved it away with his hand as if to say it was nothing before he started walking to the stairs again, Peter right behind him. He watched them engage in a new, interesting topic they hadn’t covered before and something moved in his stomach when Peter’s words echoed in his head.

_So you’re not in love with him?_

Of course Steve was in love with him. Not that Peter needed to know about it, anyway.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> When Tony smiled, sleepily and lazily, Steve thought he’d just fallen in love with that smile and bit his lips almost involuntarily as a painful urge to kiss him arose from deep down inside him. There had been more than a few occasions in which Steve had felt the same – usually, it all happened because Tony was being just Tony, cocky and arrogant and a smartass Steve couldn’t help but deeply care for – but this was stronger, it made Steve’s blood boil in his veins with the need to press his lips on Tony’s and taste the dinner they’d consumed earlier at some Italian restaurant downtown.
> 
> And of course, Tony kissed him first because he was just too busy thinking of how badly he wanted it, and Steve thought himself stupid and over-analysing. Tony, he was a man of action, he wouldn’t waste time wondering about something and would act instead, curious of the effect his doings would provoke.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another chapter out, at last. Sorry it's taking so long guys, but life, uni, work et cetera demand my attention (…which is exhausting). Anyway. 
> 
> Some fluffy moments here, hope you enjoy each and every one of them. 
> 
> Notes you might need: not really, just the occasional reference here and there to some tv show or another. If I think of something else, I'll let you know. 
> 
> Enjoy, have fun and thanks for reading! Thank you to all of you who leave kudos and comment, you guys make my day. 
> 
> C.

Steve liked the tower the most at that time of night; he liked the lack of workers and technicians running up and down every floor, the quiet and morbid feeling only a home could give him. He had been living there for a while when Fury had wanted the Avengers assembled under one roof, and the tower had echoed with all their voices and laughter and arguments; he missed a little the chaotic environment, and their loud dinners, and Clint’s arrows stuck in the wall, and Mjolnir laying in very uncomfortable places with no Thor around to move it.

He missed all of that, but he liked this much more. It was intimate and warm, private and comfortable as a mother’s hug; it was also a part of Tony’s life he had never got to see before, moments of solitude and silence when the lights turned off and he shut the world out only to reprise his frenetic routine in the morning. Steve liked this Tony – happy, smiling Tony who walked Peter around a museum for hours without ever tiring or complaining, a Tony who would come back home and sit on the couch next to him without feeling the need for words. This was a new Tony, a little different maybe from the always charming, usually words-vomiting billionaire everybody knew; this was the Tony Steve had always believed was hiding behind all that sarcasm and magnificence.

Steve watched Peter collapsing on the couch next to the one where he and Tony were relaxing, and maybe he laughed a little as the kid yawned loudly and shifted and turned until he found a satisfying position only to fall asleep not five minutes later. Tony laughed too, a low, heart-warming laugh that made Steve’s heart jump right up his throat.

“I should carry him to his room,” Tony whispered in the dim light, a hand running to rub his tired eyes. “Or I could ask Dummy to bring a movable bed so he could carry him. JARVIS?”

“I’ll carry him,” Steve offered as he laid his head backwards on the cushions. “Give me a few minutes.”

Tony nodded and yawned, shifting closer to him; he rested his head on his hand and stared at Steve with one eye open while weariness threatened to lull him to sleep.

“You should go to sleep, too.”

“In a few minutes,” Tony echoed him and Steve cracked a smile. Hesitantly, he lifted a hand to caress Tony’s closing eyes with the tips of his fingers and Tony leant in to the touch, breath steady and a half-smile on his lips. Tony’s skin was warm to the touch, and a little rough on the crinkles around his eyes and mouth, which Steve seemed to love anyway.

“Should I carry you, too?” he joked, but maybe he wasn’t as far from the truth. Tony giggled and held his hand in his.

“Only if you promise to kiss me goodnight, Rogers.”

Tony lazily opened one eye to look at him, and Steve observed the playful expression painted on his face thinking that maybe it was just a little bit more than that – or maybe he was just tired and his eyes were deceiving him.

When Tony smiled, sleepily and lazily, Steve thought he’d just fallen in love with that smile and bit his lips almost involuntarily as a painful urge to kiss him arose from deep down inside him. There had been more than a few occasions in which Steve had felt the same – usually, it all happened because Tony was being just Tony, cocky and arrogant and a smartass Steve couldn’t help but deeply care for – but this was stronger, it made Steve’s blood boil in his veins with the need to press his lips on Tony’s and taste the dinner they’d consumed earlier at some Italian restaurant downtown.

And of course, Tony kissed him first because he was just too busy thinking of how badly he wanted it, and Steve thought himself stupid and over-analysing. Tony, he was a man of action, he wouldn’t waste time wondering about something and would act instead, curious of the effect his doings would provoke.

Tony’s lips brushed gently against his and Steve smiled softly as he let Tony’s tongue in his mouth. Something moved in his stomach as a pleasant warmth burst inside of him, while his heart pounded like a drum in his chest as never before.

The kiss was tender and slow, and when they parted Steve felt empty and a little cold without Tony’s lips on his own. But Tony was smiling, caressing his face and cupping one of Steve’s hands with his, and Steve felt the warmth expand through all his body and reach his heart, melting it.

“We should really take Peter to bed,” Tony whispered before placing a gentler and chaste kiss on his lips. “Up, Cap. Bed is calling.”

Steve laughed and stood, shaking his head; he easily picked Peter from the sofa he was sleeping on and carried him all the way to the room, Tony right by his side brushing his hips with light fingers. As he laid Peter down, Steve watched Tony pull the covers up and give the kid a soft, affectionate look before ruffling his hair and walking quietly out of the room whispering a low, “ _lights off”._

“Peter is a great kid,” Steve said as they walked down the corridor that led to their respective rooms. “And I actually think you have a good influence on him, Tony. I just hope Fury would see it, too.”

Tony shrugged as if he didn’t care, but Steve knew it was just a deception. He did care, about Peter and about Fury being this huge asshole for not understanding Peter and his capabilities.

“He never cares much, you know him,” he spit out, more bitterly than he had maybe intended to show him. “I don’t know if I’m doing it right, I’m just trying to make Peter understand things will be okay again soon.”

“You’re doing great so far,” Steve cut him off as he noticed the weight of it all fall on Tony’s shoulders and curve them a little more. “Maybe you’re too caught up to see things as clearly as I do from the outside, but trust me on this: you’re doing more for Peter than Fury could ever do himself. Just… just promise me not to be too hard on yourself, you don’t deserve it.”

Tony attempted a laughter that came out a little strangled, and Steve noticed the way his eyes seemed to shine. When he spoke, his voice was almost unnoticeably rough and scratching, and Steve thought it was best if he just ignored it; Tony wasn’t a man to talk about feelings much, he would rather _show_ you everything he believed you needed to know, and this was not as easy for him as it was for Steve.

“Wow, Rogers, this is a first,” Tony muttered and cleared his throat, trying to gain his confidence back. “Remember when you used to hate and despise me? Oh, there’s nothing like the old days.”

They stopped in front of the door to Steve’s room and Tony looked around at the corridor he knew so well. Steve patiently waited to get his attention back, and when Tony’s dark eyes met his Steve grabbed his hand only to pull him closer.

“I’ve never hated you, dumbass.”

“Language, Captain, you wouldn’t –“

Steve shut him up before he could start vomiting his usual, unfiltered stream of incoherent words, and he bet Tony was at least a little bit grateful for that. He kissed him a little more passionately than Tony had kissed him not long before, and tilted his head a little to deepen the kiss making Tony moan in the process.

Steve put a hand on Tony’s hips and squeezed through the cotton fabric of his shirt, while he put the other at the base of Tony’s neck right below his hairline, pulling him in even closer than he already was as if they could just melt into one single being.

Steve felt Tony’s hands caressing his abs only to slither down in another direction, and when he placed it on his ass Steve maybe winced a little, surprised but not at all bothered. He involuntarily moved his hips against Tony’s and the friction sent an electric shiver down his body, making Tony smile in the kiss.

Tony’s increasing bulge pressing against his and coming short of air, Steve pulled away only to take a deep breath and felt Tony do the same. Again the feeling of emptiness came to haunt him and Steve thought of how and for how long he’d suffered from it; back in his time he had Bucky by his side, and Peggy who he thought was the love of his life – but then the war and the crash and oh, being buried in the ice for almost a century had just wiped out everything and everyone he knew, leaving him alone in a world where he didn’t belong. Then he’d met Tony, who was a douchebag since day one, but his cyanide lines and the need of punching him in the face on a daily basis had made him feel more alive than ever; and of course things had changed, and Steve had started valuing Tony more, seeing through the wall that hid him from the world outside.

When Tony was around, Steve’s emptiness was a little weakened and the coldness a little more bearable – now, now Steve felt like he could die from not having Tony around, and being apart from him was a physical sufferance Steve wasn’t eager to endure, which scared the hell out of him. He had never needed anyone this badly before, not even Peggy, with whom he’d fallen in love so many years before, and this need he had of Tony was new, and destabilizing, and it made his heart hammer against his rib cage.

Tony kissed him again, softly this time, barely teasing his lips with his tongue and Steve relaxed against him, trying not to think too much and to just enjoy the moment as Tony was certainly doing. Tony smiled again and Steve smiled too because he just couldn’t help it, and they stood there for a little while longer just staring into each other’s eyes and kissing from time to time, and it truly was a moment Steve was going to remember forever.

“Time to sleep, Cap,” Tony whispered with a brief last kiss. “I’ll meet you for breakfast, tomorrow. Your treat.”

“Good night, Tony.”

Steve watched him walk to his room, only a few doors down the corridor, and sighed, a little relieved Tony hadn’t pushed things a little further, at least for tonight.

 

*

 

The following morning Tony walked to the kitchen only to find Peter and Steve already there. He felt a smile come up and stretch his lips almost involuntarily, and if he was a little scared from how easily just seeing Steve would make his day a little brighter, well, he didn’t show. Instead, he walked into Steve’s personal space and invaded it with his usual, unnerving arrogance that didn’t seem to affect Steve much; he squeezed his side playfully and Steve smiled as he passed him a cup of hot steaming coffee.

When he turned around to sit at the table, Tony caught Peter staring at him with half a smile that was more likely to turn into a proper grin, and maybe Tony grinned back at him as he asked Peter to pass the bread.

Maybe Steve blushed a little every time Tony would brush against him one way or another, voluntarily or accidentally, and maybe Tony loved the pink-y shade his face would get from the touch ( _maybe_ Tony found it adorable, so what?).

They spent the day in Central Park, Steve and Peter playing football not too far from where Tony was sitting, legs crossed and a Starktech computer on his lap; he got to go through a lot of the undeveloped work projects he had put aside since Peter had turned his life upside down, while the others seemed to enjoy the sun and physical exercise. They ate the packed lunch Steve had somehow prepared before leaving the tower, and walked downtown Manhattan in the afternoon; Tony even offered to take them both to the theatre that same night, but Peter affirmed he’d rather go to the movies and so they did.

Steve liked the movie a lot, staring with eyes open wide at the incredible giants robots in it, flinching on his chair every once in a while thanks to the fantastic special effects, and Peter enjoyed it a lot, too; after, he couldn’t stop babbling about how amazing the robots were, and he even asked Tony if he could take a closer look to his iron suit, to which Tony replied positively as long as Peter wouldn’t touch it.

Over dinner, Peter timidly told them of how he’d been bitten by a radioactive spider at a science fair, but didn’t say much more. From the look on his face Tony suspected Peter was conscious Tony had to know all about it, him being dropped at his door by SHIELD agents and such; Tony also noticed doubt in Peter’s eyes, as he probably wasn’t sure whether Tony had told Steve about what changes the accident had produced in his life. Tony didn’t push him and changed the subject when the discomfort became more and more visible on Peter’s face, and Steve adapted perfectly and naturally to the change of subject Tony had more subtly induced.

When they got back home Tony walked to the bar to pour himself and Steve the now usual goodnight drink, but Steve put his hand on his bare arm making him shudder a little, and tilted his head towards Peter and the kitchen instead. Tony followed him in there and watched, enchanted, as Steve prepared three cups of hot cocoa he then topped with a vividly coloured marshmallow shower. Peter left them soon after he’d finished his cocoa and maybe he winked at Tony, maybe he didn’t, and when they moved to the sofa Steve started caressing Tony with fingers as light as feathers. They spent most of the night there, close to each other and kissing like teenagers on their first crush, and the lounge welcomed them with its quiet, warm atmosphere.

The next few days weren’t any different – Steve found something interesting for them to do, parks and museums and movies and so on, and Tony got distracted a lot from his work just from the way Steve’s lips curled into the nicest smile ever. They went out for lunch, and for dinner, and Peter got to meet Tony’s suit and stared at it in pure admiration, caressing the metal with his hands and eyes. Tony even allowed him into his lab and Peter started asking questions about this or that prototype lying on Tony’s desks while Steve sat on the couch with a glass of ice-tea and just listened.

Once Steve even convinced Peter to go to the gym with him and had him work out a little, but Peter wasn’t a man of sports – so he abandoned Steve to his exercise to go after Tony, eager to get into the lab where all sorts of ingenious hi-tech lay. Tony showed him a new prototype of Captain America’s shield, still made in vibranium but stronger, with a different curving that made it easier for Cap to use it and enhanced the boomerang effect; Peter even tried to use it, but turned out the shield was way too heavy for his skinny bones and Tony laughed as he put it away on a table, waiting to be finished. He even showed Peter the new suits he’d made for Widow and the Hawk, of a material of his invention that resembled Kevlar but bettered it a whole awful lot.

It took Peter a few other days before he talked of the spider incident again, and when he did he looked sad, and angry, but also curious, which was what made him angry in the first place; Peter probably thought the accident had made him a freak, someone who society was going to despise and treat as an outcast, and _this_ was what made Tony mad, the mere thought of someone being mean to Peter only because he was different.

Of course, Steve came in to save the day; he put one of his big hands on Peter’s shoulder and told him it was okay, everything was going to be fine. He told Peter the world was adjusting to all the new things, to the mutations that seemed to affect a good part of humanity, and he should have let no one mistreat him because of his gift; Steve went on talking about how difficult it was to be different, but how strong it made you if only you found the courage to embrace your diversity and make it truly yours. Steve told Peter a story about a small, skinny guy from Brooklyn whose life and destiny had changed irreparably, and if there had been those who’d accepted him, there had been a lot more who hadn’t; he told him how this young man had fought for his beliefs, fought to defend his right to be different in a world that maybe wasn’t ready – and he’d won, and he’d lost a lot but he had never stopped believing, never stopped smiling at every brand new day.

In the safety of the tower, Peter told them both what the bite had truly changed in him and his voice broke as he spoke, while Tony felt his own heart falter and hurt in his chest; he wanted to tell Peter everything was going to be alright, and he truly believe it was, but words just wouldn’t come out, stuck in a lump in his throat – and Steve, oh, Steve was the man to have around in moments like those, when the lights were low and Peter’s tears feebly shone in the semi darkness. Steve put his arms around Peter so naturally that Tony envied him a little, and after a brief moment in which Peter went all stiff and rigid, looking like he had no idea of what to do next, he then let go and hugged Steve back, letting his hands move on his back with a soothing effect until he fell asleep in his arms. Steve lifted him as he weighed nothing at all, and had a kind of intense look in his eyes Tony had never seen before – _hurt_ , that’s what it was, and yes, Tony had always known Steve was made of rainbows and kittens, but he’d never known how badly it would feel to see him like that.

That night, after Steve laid Peter carefully in his bed, Tony asked Steve not to leave him alone, and Steve didn’t. He followed Tony to his room, which was bigger than Steve’s, and let Tony guide him to the big, soft bed right at the centre of it; he laid down as Tony did the same, and Tony was maybe more shaken from Peter’s story than he was eager to admit so Steve just put his arms around him and curled up around his body. Tony breathed heavily for a while, pressed against Steve’s chest and feeling a sort of warmth coming from it – if that truly was Steve’s body heat Tony was impressed, really; until Steve kissed him softly on his lips, and right below his ear, and Tony felt his own body relax until he was nothing but a giant puddle of feelings and everything he could think of was _SteveSteveSteve_.

They spent the night together, bodies messily intertwined in an undistinguished twist of legs, and arms, and hands caressing every portion of skin they could reach.

It was the first night in forever Tony slept the whole night without even waking up once.

 

*

 

Tony had no idea of what to call whatever it was he and Steve had. They kissed a lot, and smiled a lot, and spent almost every night curled up in bed together, rubbing against each other and occasionally giving each other a few, knees-into-jelly blowjobs. Peter started mocking them from time to time saying they were so utterly obvious he was going to throw up, laughing out loud every time Steve turned of a darker shade of pink; Tony would clout him joyfully with a wide grin on his face, laughing even louder to Peter’s offended look.

Tony liked spending time in his lab with Peter, and discovered with big surprise the kid was far smarter than he’d first thought; Peter knew a lot about science, chemistry and physics being his favourite, and Tony had to slow down the enthusiasm every time they talked of this compound or another, remembering Peter knew a lot for a kid his age but wasn’t able to follow his fifty years of experience easily. Steve mocked them a little and called them nerds from time to time, but did so with an affectionate smile on his face and a kind look in his eyes, so Tony doubted it mattered much. Also, Tony saw the way Peter looked at Steve, as a role model to follow to better himself – and he could hardly disagree, Rogers was probably the best man Tony had ever met in his whole life. While Tony gave Peter science and funny things to build from scratch or destroy and build again, Steve seemed to give him those values Tony himself lacked a little, and Peter being already kind-hearted only made it easier for Steve’s words to sink in.

It took a couple of weeks before Tony and Peter accordingly found a summer school for Peter to go to, and when Tony presented Steve with the school prospectus even he had nothing to say about it. The school boast the best science program they’d find in any other summer school, and a great literature course that would blow Peter’s mind off; the campus was green, and huge, and beautiful, and Peter seemed mildly happy of the choice. Also, the school wasn’t too far from the Stark tower, which Tony considered as a plus, but not an expendable one.

Tony made a few phone calls and that was it, he filled in and signed the admission form and not five days later Peter got accepted with a pompous letter sent to the tower.

Steve cooked them a delicious dinner to celebrate and Tony opened a bottle of fine and expensive red whine, some Merlot or Cabernet, he didn’t care much; he even allowed Peter to have his glass half-filled with it, and the dinner was one of the best they’d had in those weeks together. Peter even offered to help with the cleaning, and this time it was Tony who sent him away, telling him there was no need for it – in turn, Steve grabbed Tony and dragged him away from the dirty kitchen, telling him they could take care of it tomorrow, and when he kissed him Tony forgot every argument he was going to put up.

They shared the sofa as usual, Peter lying down on the one next to theirs, and when he insisted they watched a movie together Steve just smiled and nodded and told him to pick it up. Of course, it had to be some action kind of movie, because Peter just seemed to love those – and sci-fi, Peter loved sci-fi a lot. Tony took a mental note to introduce him to Doctor Who one of those days, he was sure Peter was going to love it – well, maybe having him watch the old series was a bit too much, but the new version of it was going to catch his interest to say the least. Maybe they could go through the ’63 original series later.

Of course, Peter fell asleep on the couch like he did almost every night, and Steve was the one who picked him up and took him to bed – as usual.

It was all becoming some sort of routine, Tony noticed with a throb of his heart. They spent every day together, and Steve would make breakfast for the three of them, cleaning the dishes himself and leaving Rosita with some less work for the day; they went out for long walks together, and had dinner downtown after. Tony was pretty accustomed to Peter’s grins and smirks by now, and to Steve’s blushing which was just fucking adorable, and they went through each day together, as easily as if they were just used to it.

But they weren’t, were they? Steve and him, well, yes, they were a little, used to spend time together as a team, even as friends – not as lovers, because that’s what they were, wasn’t it? Tony was falling for Steve every day more, more than he’d already fallen when he’d seen his sleeping body in a glass case, more than he had after he’d met him and got past his command-ish attitude. Tony was in love with Steve, he had always been, and it wasn’t a big deal, even if the sex was still off the table for the moment – which Tony could understand, with Steve being from the forties and all. Of course it wasn’t easy for him to adjust to _that_ kind of relationship, to cope with the fact he was in love with another man. It wasn’t easy, and Steve needed time to digest it all, but he was already progressing so fast Tony was shocked and a little flattered.

It was so easy to be in love with Steve. If ever a perfect man existed, Tony could bet it was him – bright smiles and soft lips and kind words, and eyes to turn Tony’s stomach upside down every time Steve looked at him. And he was brave, and sweet, and strong in ways Tony would never be himself; Steve was an anchor to keep Peter grounded when emotions became too hard for him to bear, he was the light at the end of the endless tunnel Tony had walked through his whole life. He was everything Tony could ever want and more, and he wasn’t sure he deserved him.

But Steve loved him, too, and didn’t seem to be bothered by the fact Tony was an asshole sometimes; he didn’t seem to care much about his attitude anymore, nor about the weight Tony had been bearing since forever – if so, Steve seemed to be lifting that weight off his shoulders and help him carry it.

That night, when they turned the lights off and the tower stood tall and silent amidst buildings and streetlamps, Tony led Steve to his bed and kissed him quietly before he told him he loved him. Steve’s eyes burned a hole through his skin, and when he kissed him back Tony felt all the words Steve had never told him linger between them as if on fire, heating up his skin and bones.

When Steve told him he loved him too, he did so in between his legs and Tony trembled under his touch like a leaf in strong, northern winds, closing his eyes and giving in to the feeling of Steve’s firm hot body against his. Tony let him experiment with his hands and tongue, moaning loudly in the dark of the night as Steve touched him deeply, physically and not; he arched his back, electrified and fully hard already, when Steve fingered him slowly, carefully and a little hesitantly, and Tony guided him with his voice, whispering words and groans that filled the air around them.

Steve penetrated him slowly, uncertain whether he was hurting him or not – he was a little, but Tony didn’t tell him right then. After, they were going to have so much time to talk about these kind of things, when the night would fade and the stars would turn off like little distant lights, in the hours before dawn when the sky was light and lazily painted in pink and orange, and maybe a darker shade of red; they were going to discuss how long it had been since Tony had slept with a man, or how Steve’s first time had made him feel. Now, they needed to enjoy the moment and Tony swallowed the stingy pain that caught him, eyes and mouth shut to keep his moaning to himself.

It took Steve a while to find the right rhythm, and even a little longer to find the right angle, but boy, did he find it.

Steve was a dedicated lover eager to please and Tony shivered under his gaze and the light touch of his hands, pushing his hips up when he needed more. When he came, he came hard between them and Steve came harder inside of him, placing gentle kisses on his temples and jaw as he left his body and lay next to him, encircling him with his arms. Tony kissed him back sleepily, with the same strength as a bowl of pudding, and he felt his heart melting when Steve murmured in his ears, right before he let himself slide into sleep.

_I love you. I’ve always loved you, and always will._

 

*

 

All things come to an end; whether they’re good or bad, whether you’re happy with the way they’re going or you’d rather change it. Everything ends, the only way of it not happening being freezing things in a fragment of time that would never progress, never move forward.

Changes are not always good, but they are needed to keep the world running. They are necessary – and, of course, utterly inevitable, which is what makes human kind feel powerless and frustrated at times, when confronting them.

Changes had turned Tony’s life upside down, messing him up in ways he had never believed possible – he had gone through a lot on his own already, he could tell. Peter had changed Tony’s life the very moment he came to his door, angry and expectedly uncooperative, forced by an agency that wasn’t even a hundred per cent operative yet; his staying at the tower had forced Tony to modify the course of his days, paying more attention to Peter’s needs than he had at first appreciated or wanted to.

Changes had led Peter through a time so rough he probably thought the bad days were never gonna be over, not completely – but something happened, something _clicked_ when him and Tony least expected it, and they’d found themselves on a whole new different level.

Changes had brought Steve into Tony’s life in a way he had never believed possible, having a crush for the man since the very first day Howard had taken him to watch him sleep. Their relationship had slowly turned from dislike, to friendship, to something else and Tony felt so grateful he felt like his heart was going to explode in his chest. He loved Steve with every inch of his being and more, and enjoyed every single moment they spent together because nothing in the world was more important to him than having Steve by his side. He thought, with the same exact ineffability everyone in love would think, that nothing was going to burst their little bubble of happiness until, of course, something did.

No one had see it coming – they should have though, Tony realized with a surge of anger; of course they couldn’t live the life someone happy and normal could. They were Avengers, they had duties to stick up to, and put their life in the line of fire more often than not. The world could have ended at any moment and they were the ones who were going to die to defend it, they weren’t _allowed_ to indulge in such trivial fantasies as living a life they would actually enjoy each moment of; they were to live each day as if it were their last, no plans, no nothing because they might not have been there to witness it.

When Tony woke up to an empty bed that morning something went off in his mind, and his body tensed as it always did when an upcoming danger was perceived; he walked fast through the corridors only to stop by Peter’s room and enter it quickly. Peter was asleep in his bed and Tony immediately relaxed, sighing unconsciously at the sight; he left, closing the door behind him, and found Steve in the lounge not five minutes later, fully clothed and with his operative expression painted on his face.

For a moment, Tony thought something bad had happened, something that required the Avengers to be assembled again effecting immediately, and in a fraction of a second he thought of who would take care of Peter while he was away; he should’ve called Pepper, she was just so awesome Peter was gonna love her – but when Steve turned around and saw him standing there, half naked and worried, Tony understood it had nothing to do with the Avengers.

Steve looked guilty, and sorry, and maybe a little sad; not the kind of look that’d have made Tony’s guts twist heavily, dreading something had happened to one of his friends and comrades. It was more a look that made Tony’s heart jump in his chest with a sting of pain, and when Steve moved a few steps towards him and stopped halfway Tony’s suspects got confirmed.

“Fury called. He wants me back in DC.”

“What for?”

Steve sighed, a little deflated.

“Says vacation’s over. Natasha is handling the young Avengers incredibly well, but he wants me there in case something happens,” he said quietly.

“Is there any real need for you to be there or is it just Fury being his usual asshole?”

“Tony –“

“No, Steve, don’t _Tony_ me like that,” he said as he moved to avoid Steve’s hand to touch him. “We have a life, you know? Fury cannot just bark orders when there’s no need for us to follow them. We have all the right to just tell him to fuck off and not bother to call for us if it isn’t something end-of-the-worldly.”

“I can’t just -,” Steve babbled. “No matter how much I don’t want to – it’s _orders_ , Tony. If he thinks I’d better be in DC then it’s maybe true, have you thought of that? What if something goes wrong and I’m not there, what if I can’t go back as fast as needed and help out?”

“For how long?”

Steve blinked at the question, momentarily at a loss.

“He didn’t say.”

Of course Fury didn’t say, Tony thought; if he wanted Steve to be in DC, than it probably meant the bastard wanted Steve there permanently, end of story. A tiny part of him could understand – dangers and threats around every corner, yeah, they were used to that by now – and Tony almost hated himself for that; he _didn’t want_ to understand Fury’s intention now, not when he had Steve right where he was needed and everything was going so fine.

He knew it was egoistic of him to ask Steve to ignore a direct order and just stay, still he couldn’t help it. Steve had to go to DC and what then? Sure, it was merely a four hours drive, but Fury wasn’t one to give leaves lightly, even more so when he had Captain America at his leash. Those few weeks had been what? An exception? A concession, or a mistake?

They were going to meet again at the early signs of the next worldwide tragedy, that was what was going to happen. Steve was going to stay in DC for the time being and there was no way he could leave New York, so that left them what exactly? Meeting over weekends once in a very blue moon?

“I’ll come back as soon as I can,” Steve said as if he could read Tony’s thoughts. “I don’t like this any more than you do, but an order is an order, and you too know that.”

No. No, Tony didn’t know that. He couldn’t give shit about orders, less of all Fury’s; he’d never been a man to follow someone else’s lead, and he wasn’t going to start now. He responded to Fury only when necessity arose and that was it; he and only he was master of his own life and decisions, and if on the dark side it left him to blame himself for his failures it also meant he could freely choose what he wanted to do with his life.

“You know you won’t,” Tony said bitterly as he looked up into Steve’s eyes. “You won’t come back soon because Fury wants you in DC no matter what, and in our job we don’t get many canonical days off.”

So that was it. They were going to shake hands and say goodbye and meet again when needed, as it had always been until only a few weeks before. Tony had been okay with it earlier, when he’d thought Steve and he had some sort of nice and still growing friendship, but there was no way in hell he was going to be okay with it now.

“Tony, I will –“

“Oh, for fuck’s sake, Steve,” Tony snapped. “Would you stop it already. Just face it, it’s never gonna work. I am sure you’ll try, I’m not questioning that; but I am also fucking sure there’ll come the day you’ll stop coming back, too busy following orders to do so. Let’s just spare us the trouble.”

“This is childish,” Steve hissed. “You know, things aren’t just black or white. There’s always a way, if you are committed enough to find it.”

“Are you saying I’m not committed?” Tony barked, stepping closer. “Try as we might, Steve, there are too many factors that do make the outcome utterly clear. This is not me not being committed, this is me just being rational.”

Steve clenched his fists and had a hard look on his face, anger flushing his cheeks; he looked as if he was on the verge of smashing something and he might as well could, Tony didn’t care much.

Tony knew Steve was just going to walk away without an exit line, and somehow this made him even angrier; he couldn’t watch Steve turn his back on him without even trying to say something, whatever thing passed on his mind – did Steve truly care as little as to just go away from him without fighting?

Fighting had been the only way Tony had always been able to deal with him, it was something he could understand; fighting Steve meant hitting him with all the emotions Tony always kept to himself, showing him in the only way he knew that _he cared_. Fighting had always worked for them because Steve cared enough to shout things to his face, that being the only way to put something in Tony’s head. Tony knew that fighting Steve now was the first step to work things out, a little stumble towards finding a solution together, so why was Steve standing still and silent? Why wasn’t he hitting Tony with hard words that were going to leave a mark on his soul and a scar on his heart that would’ve eventually healed?

“Goodbye, Tony,” Steve said coldly and he did exactly what Tony was fearing. He turned his back, picked up the military rucksack Tony had sent someone to fetch for him and walked steadily towards the elevator doors, shoulders straight and tensed.

“Yeah, go be the soldier they created you to be,” Tony spit out venomously. He knew his words were going to hurt Steve more than any physical wound he would ever get, and if his own heart felt like it was on the verge of breaking too, well, he couldn’t bring himself to care.

“That’s what you do, what you live for. I don’t even know why the fuck I care anyway.”

Steve stepped into the elevator without looking back and all Tony could see was his reflection in the mirror; he felt something breaking inside of him as he caught glimpse of Steve’s eyes, of a darker shade of blue than ever – almost blackish, the colour of the sky as a thunderstorm hits the ocean.

When the elevator doors shut with the usual, familiar _ding_ , Tony found himself out of breath, gasping for air.

 

*

 

It didn’t take too long before Peter stumbled in the lounge, barefooted and sleepy. His hair was a mess and he was rubbing his eyes with his hands, trying to adjust to the morning light; he looked around for a few moments, confusion darkening his eyes as he looked at Tony, seated on the couch and staring at the wall before him.

“What, no breakfast today?” he joked as he went to take a seat next to him. He must have gotten something from Tony’s expression, because his voice was heavier when he asked, “What’s going on?”

Tony let out a sigh but said nothing for a few, long-lasting moments. He wasn’t even sure he could talk – his chest ached so much he felt like he was going to throw up, it was even worse than having his first arc reactor implanted. His head felt dizzy and the world seemed to ferociously spin around him in a spiral of sounds and voices and colours; he felt the ground beneath his feet cracking at every passing moment, and it wasn’t going to take long before it would come crumbling down, swallowing him whole.

“Is everything alright?” Peter asked, concern clear in his voice. Tony swallowed the lump in his throat and nodded, breathing in and out to calm himself a little.

“Yeah, fine,” he said, and if his voice trembled a little Peter didn’t do anything to point it out. “Steve has – ah, he had to go back to work. Left earlier this morning.”

As he turned to look at the kid, Tony caught Peter’s expression turning into a heavier one. He knew Peter had started growing fond of Steve, it had been but a natural process, and now Steve had just left without even say goodbye to him. Tony knew from the way Peter’s lips straightened into a thin line that the gesture hadn’t gone unnoticed, and he couldn’t blame him for being mad at Steve now. Peter, Tony realized suddenly, had every right to be mad at Steve as he had.

“He wanted to come see you,” Tony lied. “But you were sleeping so good he didn’t want to wake you up.”

Peter nodded and said nothing. If he’d spotted the lie, he didn’t show; his face was a mask of unreadable emotions and Tony wished Peter would talk to him now, let him know what it was he was feeling.

Instead, Peter let out a strangled, “Okay,” and jumped on his feet as if pressured by an invisible force.

“Peter,” Tony called, but Peter kept on walking. “Pete, come here. I –“

Before Tony could ever think of what to say to him Peter was gone, out into the corridor and, Tony bet, back to his room again. Which was comprehensible, and Tony couldn’t have expected any other reaction from him; in those few weeks they’d spent together at the tower, Steve had somehow become a little bit important in Peter’s life. Steve had been the one playing with him while Tony sat down to his work, walking him around showing him the beauties New York had to offer; Steve had been the soft one, letting Peter do whatever he liked and sparing him all the good and necessary housework that’d have probably taught him something.

Steve had held Peter in his arms when his sobs had been breaking his breath and Tony’s heart, soothing him with his presence more than with his hands; Steve had been the one Peter had deliberately and freely chosen to tell his story to, the one he’d opened up to without holding back. Steve had given Peter much, but the kid had given him even more and what for? Only to be left alone, _abandoned_ , without even a proper goodbye.

Tony felt sick to the stomach when he thought of what exactly that must’ve meant for Peter, who had just recently lost the little family he had left; who had been rushed into a place he didn’t know with people he had never met before in his life. Peter had lost everything he’d ever had to lose and started back from scratch, slowly and cautiously and diffidently – and right when he had found something to cling onto, someone who seemed to care for him enough not to leave him alone there he was, alone once again without notice.

Tony couldn’t let that happen; he couldn’t let Peter crawl back into his nest of fear and anger, he couldn’t let him wipe off all the progress he had been making since he’d first come to the tower. What _he_ felt now wasn’t important, everything that mattered was Peter, showing him how good things were now, and how stupid it’d have been for him to go back to the dark place he’d just come out of.

Once again, Tony found himself with the need of giving Peter some time to spend alone, which was probably the best thing to do; knowing him a little, Tony figured his constant presence wasn’t going to make things better, if only it’d make them worse.

No, what Peter needed now was to be left alone with the thoughts spinning in his head, free to deal with them when and how he wanted to.

Tony wondered what the hell he was supposed to do now. There was the matter of Peter’s summer school to deal with, and classes were going to start in less than a week; would it have been wise to send Peter there now? Or maybe was it better to let him spend some more time in the tower with him?

Going to school meant going out and meeting new people, that much was clear and, in Tony’s point of view, couldn’t do any harm. But what if Peter wasn’t ready? With his abilities, Tony truly feared the answer to his question.

Well, they still had a few days before having to make that decision. There was still time.

“JARVIS, I’m going down to the lab. Call me if Peter comes out of his room.”

_Will do, sir._

Tony abandoned the lounge and stepped into the elevator, going down a few floors to reach his sanctuary, the most sacred place he had in this mad world. Working on things, handling circuits and bettering inventions was something familiar and soothing, it helped take his mind off every thing he didn’t want to think about – which in this case bore the name of Steve Rogers.

As soon as he entered the lab Dummy came to him, whirring happily and looking at him with some sort of metallic expectation; Tony patted its head and smiled a little as the bot followed him around the room, dodging worktables and prototypes lying here and there (sometimes failing, with the result of said prototypes falling to the ground with a horrible sound).

Tony walked past the new suits he had started working for a few weeks earlier and not too far from them lay the patriotically designed shield that was a gift for the jackass that was Captain America. Tony stopped, incapable of just walking past it, and stared at it for a while, head tilted on a side and focused; he felt like there was something missing, or something that was entirely wrong with it, but he had no idea how to fix it. Sure, the curve was now perfect and the materials incredibly resistant; hell, the thing just looked as perfect as it gets, star-spangled and all.

Maybe it was just waiting for Steve to pick it up to _look_ perfect, Tony thought. Maybe it was just waiting for Steve, that was all.

_Sir, Miss Potts on line one, sir._

Tony sighed and eyed the ceiling; he felt a hint of panic getting to him, twisting his guts unpleasantly. He thought of avoiding the phone call and just get back to wander around his lab like a tormented soul – but he knew Pepper wasn’t just gonna leave him alone and would have kept stalking him until he’d picked up the damn phone, so there was really no use in trying to avoid the inevitable. With another, deeper sigh Tony ordered JARVIS to open the line.

“Hey, Potts. What’s up?”

 _There is going to be a board meeting next Saturday I need you to attend. And before you can say anything, I won’t take a no as an answer. The Executives are all going to be there, Tony, you can’t really sit this one out. I don’t need to remind you how_ important _those guys are for the Company, or how it’s in your best interest to keep them close and happy._

Tony reached the sofa and fell on it with a soft puff; he let out a strangled laugh and closed his eyes, and when Steve’s angry face appeared behind his eyelids he opened them again with a twitch, blinking almost furiously to erase the image that seemed stapled to his mind.

Of course, he didn’t have much success, and of course Pepper knew him so well by now she interpreted the silence correctly and assumed something had happened. When she spoke again, her tone was tinted in worry and seriously, that woman was unbelievable.

_Tony, what’s going on?_

“Nothing,” he replied dryly. “Nothing’s going on, Pep. Board meeting, got it. I’ll be there. Huh, would you be so kind as to remember to put me on my plane so I won’t forget?”

_You know I will. Is everything okay in there?_

“Yeah, fine, everything’s just spectacularly fine.”

_I’m coming down there. Today._

Damn. Pepper was worse than a dog with its bone when it came down to find out the truth – and oh, did she know he was lying bluntly to her face. She had always known, Tony had no idea how she did that – she just looked at him in the eyes, or listened to his silences, and knew something was cooking, and it wasn’t nice.

Tony missed that a little, Pepper worrying about him and being by his side at his every step; he missed having her around to take care of him, because he would’ve never been able to take care of himself – not that he’d ever admit that.

They had lost all of that with the break-up, which was understandable and the expected course of events, Tony knew that; they had lost a lot of things since the break-up, but their natural familiarity was what Tony regretted the most.

“Steve went back to DC this morning,” Tony blurted out. “Fury called for him and he ran back.”

There was a moment of pause and Tony could imagine Pepper’s expression now, confused and surprised. She cleared her throat and spoke again, calm and reasonable as she’d always been.

_Was it an emergency?_

“It damn as hell wasn’t.”

A sigh. She was probably massaging her eyes now.

_Then I believe Fury needed him to be there just in case. For how long?_

“He didn’t say,” Tony spat out. “You know Fury, never thinks he owes you an explanation or anything. He just barks orders and expects people to follow them.”

_Are you mad because of what this means for Peter or because of what it means for you?_

Ha. Touché.

Truth was, Tony was mad for both; he had seen the disappointment in Peter’s eyes and it hurt so much to think of what the kid was probably going to go through again, right when things seemed to be finally turning for a better angle. And he was mad because of the emptiness Steve’s absence was digging inside of him, a black pit of cold and nothingness that was eating him alive.

“Bit of both,” he said. “How’d you know?”

Pepper chuckled, genuinely delighted and Tony could see her shaking her head.

_Even a blind man would notice the way you two gravitate around each other, Tony. And my eyesight is good enough I’ve seen it coming a long time ago. Do you wanna talk about it?_

“With you? It’d be awkward.”

_Definitely. But I think it won’t hurt; if only, it would help you take it off your chest._

Tony cracked a smile, conscious Pepper couldn’t see him. It was just like her worrying about him as much as to put everything aside and just be there next to him in the time of need, she’d done that for so many years it probably felt like routine. Even now they weren’t a couple anymore she was willing to sit by him and listen to his stupid babblings about Steve.

Tony’s heart grew in his chest with a sentiment that was gratitude and joy together, for he knew he didn’t deserve a woman like Pepper in his life and still there she was, right where she was needed. He didn’t deserve her, or her friendship, but damn, he appreciated it.

“Then dinner’s on me. And wine – red’s your favourite, right? At least I remember that, see, I wasn’t a too horrible boyfriend after all.”

_You were the worst. But yes, at least you remember about the wine._

“Dinner’s at seven. Don’t be late.”

_I won’t._

With a last breath that sounded like half a smile Pepper bid her goodbye and the line fell silent, leaving Tony to stare at the empty room around him, the only noise to disturb his thoughts being Dummy’s screeching wheels.

“That went well,” Tony murmured to no one in particular, and the bot next to him tilted its head to stare at him. It was impressive how Dummy’s moves resembled humans, Tony noticed; impressive, and maybe just a tad creepy, but oh, well.

_Sir, would you like me to contact the catering service or would you rather have Chef Francois brought here for tonight?_

“Let’s go for the catering, JARVIS. I’m not sure Peter likes French food. He sure likes French fries, but I doubt that counts.”

_I don’t believe it does, sir._

“Great. Catering it is. Make sure they bring that honey-glassed roast they have, Pepper loves it.”

_Yes, sir._

Tony relaxed on the couch and lay down, arms crossed behind his head and eyes to the ceiling, scrutinizing it as if he was expecting to find something enlightening in its small cracks. He didn’t, because the cracks were not in the mood for a chat today, and thoughts started spinning in his head once again thanks to the Pep-talk.

 

*

 

The private jet landed on the roof of the Stark tower precisely at six fifty-one in the evening. Tony heard JARVIS inform him of Pepper stepping into the elevator with its metallic voice and jumped off his chair to go welcome her. He left the lab in a hurry and as soon as he reached the elevator the door opened with a _ding_ – and there she was, his favourite redhead. She was wearing simple black trousers with a white shirt, comfortable in her skin and heels. Tony smiled at her, a soft smile he had always saved for her and her only, and stepped into the elevator with her.

“Looking good, Potts,” he said with a smirk she mirrored.

“Feeling good, Stark.”

Her smirk turned into a softer smile as she asked, “How have you been?” and hugged him briefly. Tony breathed in her familiar perfume – light, fruity, elegant – and hugged her back, feeling his heart pounding in his chest. He’d missed her, oh, he’d missed her greatly, the best friend he had in the world, along with Rhodey.

“Ups and downs,” he said. “As per usual.”

Pepper raised an eyebrow at him and coked her head on the side, silent and waiting. She still had the superpower of smelling his lies from a mile or two, Tony noticed with a grin. She was that good.

“Alright, everything was great until today,” he said. “We’ll have time to talk about it, plenty of time. But for now, I’d rather we enjoyed the wonderful dinner I had someone prepare for you.”

“As you wish,” Pepper replied with a smiled that suggested they _were_ going to talk about it, whether he liked it or not. “JARVIS, we’re going up to the lounge.”

“Actually, no,” Tony said quickly. “You go up and open the wine, I’ll go get Peter.”

“Is he joining us for dinner?” she asked, a little surprised, and Tony nodded.

“’Course he is,” he said, and stepped out of the elevator as the door opened to the rooms floor. He waved Pepper goodbye and ran to Peter’s door, knocking once before opening it.

“There’s someone I want you to meet,” he said, and Peter briefly looked up from the book in his lap. “Dinner will be ready in five. Go wash your hands and meet me upstairs.”

Peter gave him a _do-I-really-have-to_ look but didn’t complain and closed the book instead, sighing lightly.

“Fine.”

“Good. See you there.”

Tony walked out of the room and took his time walking to the lounge, no elevator needed. He knew Peter was going to like Pepper, it was impossible for him not to; she was smart, and beautiful, and a great human being on a more general level. He was going to _love_ her.

But he’d seen the look in Peter’s eyes – diffident, untrusting. He couldn’t blame him, not really; Steve had just left them both, and without even saying goodbye. Of course Peter wasn’t going to trust anyone else so soon, of course he felt abandoned – _again._ Maybe he thought whoever it was Tony wanted to introduce him to wasn’t going to stick around for long, and who had after he’d been forced under Tony’s care?

Tony, of course, but he suspected Peter thought he only had because Fury had ordered him to – which said a lot about what Peter knew of Tony if he truly believed he would just bend and obey to Fury like that.

“Took you a while,” Pepper mocked him as he walked towards her. “You got the right wine, I’m shocked.”

“What can I say,” Tony opened his arms in a grand gesture. “I’m a man of many talents.”

Pepper let out a giggle and handed him a glass filled with a rich Bordeaux, which he accepted only because she was handing it. He hated to be handed things.

“To our reunion,” Pepper said as their glasses clinked together. “And to my incredible ability of _not_ smacking you in the head every day of your life.”

“Yeah, we’ll definitely drink to that.”

As they sipped their wine, Tony watched Pepper’s smile crack a little and her eyes darted to the door behind him. He knew, before even having the time to think of it, Peter was standing there with an indecipherable expression painted on his young face; when he turned, he did with an encouraging smile on his lips and a silent request hidden in his dark chocolate eyes.

“Peter,” Tony called out, gesturing him with his hand to come close. “This wonderful woman here is Miss Pepper Potts, CEO of the Stark Industries. She’s also the reason why I’ve never ended up in jail or something.”

“Hey, Peter,” Pepper offered with a hint of a smile. “Nice to meet you. I hope Tony hasn’t been too much of a pain in the neck for you.”

“He’s done alright,” Peter said as he approached them, and Tony put a hand on his shoulder as he smiled brightly at his former girlfriend.

“See? I’m doing alright,” he teased. “And what the hell is wrong with you people, always assuming I’m the worst guy around. I’m not, as you can clearly see. Points for me, Potts.”

Pepper shook her head while repressing a laugh and addressed Peter instead, ignoring Tony completely – which he felt a little offended for, but almost forgot about when Pepper managed to steal Peter a timid laugh. Damn, she was good.

All Peter needed was a good look at her to get his defences down a little, not intimidated by her and encouraged instead by her friendly behaviour. This is what the kid needed, Tony thought as he poured Peter a glass of coke; a friendly environment and adults to talk to him like the little man he was, not ignoring or mistreating him out of fear of what he was capable of. Peter needed someone like Pepper to make him feel at ease, comfortable enough to engage in conversation with her.

Which had been exactly what Steve had done until that morning, mining all the progress Peter had made over the weeks.

Point was, Peter had gotten to trust Steve, to like him, and Steve had left without a word to him. At the mere thought, Tony’s stomach would turn upside down, heavy with anger he didn’t know how to wipe off.

“Tony? How about this dinner you promised? I’m famished, and I bet Peter is too. Aren’t you, Peter?”

“I could eat.”

“Right,” Tony said as he put the wine aside. “Dinner. JARVIS, turn the ovens off, we’re ready to dine.”

_As you wish, sir._

 

*

 

“You didn’t tell me Peter was adorable,” Pepper said as Tony poured her the nth glass of wine. She used her _why-aren’t-you-always-completely-honest-with-me_ tone that always made Tony feel guilty about whatever it was she was subtly reprimanding him for, and he shrugged, swallowing down the guilt for that inexistent offense he’d caused her.

“You didn’t ask.”

Pepper sighed in exasperation and scowled at him the same way she would have at some stubborn child, which was exactly how Tony felt every time she was around. She was just this great woman capable of running the company for him, working out things for him, sorting out his messes for him – no one could blame him if he felt inadequate. Tony knew he was a mess of a man on all fronts, and he knew his many issues had been what had caused things to go south between him and Pepper.

Still, she was right there with him when he needed someone around the most.

When he looked at her, he did with gratefulness in his eyes and she dropped the argument rolling down her tongue, ready to be fired. Instead, Pepper took her glass in her hands and abandoned the kitchen, tilting her head at him asking to follow. Tony did and waited until she was seated to sit in front of her, legs crossed and an almost empty glass in hand.

“So…”

“So...”

Pepper looked at him expectantly, silent and graceful and so damn polite, as she wasn’t exactly pushing him hard but only maybe as little as to leave him the choice of what to do next.

Of course, Tony had no idea. He knew she was waiting for him to tell her about what had happened with Steve, but he wasn’t sure he wanted to deal with the whole thing now. He didn’t really want to think of Steve, of the look in his eyes when he’d stepped into the elevator and left Tony to deal with a silence so cold and complete that had almost caused him another one of his panic attacks.

Tony sighed heavily, heart aching in his chest and the proverbial lump in his throat. Maybe Pepper was right, he needed to get things off his chest; maybe keeping everything to himself wasn’t gonna do any good, and he was in no mood for sustaining panic attacks any time soon. Not when he had Peter to take care of.

“So, Steve got here a couple weeks ago,” he said, trying to keep his voice steady and calm. “This you know already. I asked him to stay for a few days, he ended up staying kind of permanently.”

“I figured that, yes,” Pepper nodded.

“Of course you did,” Tony conceded. “Well, I thought he might actually be a good influence for Peter, and turned out I was right.”

“He is also a good influence on you, have you ever realized that?”

“The fact I won’t admit it doesn’t mean I haven’t. Anyway. Things… changed, I guess. It just sort of happened? I don’t even know how. It was just… I don’t know, Steve was here, and he took Peter out, and forced me to go with them. We did things, spent days at the museum or at the park, that kind of things. It was nice, and Peter was getting better. Oh, Pep, you should’ve seen him when he’d first got here, he was so angry, and so –“

“Destructive?” she offered. “Yeah, I know the type.”

Touché.

“It took me days to get him out of his room, I told you that already,” Tony talked on, feeling the need of letting the words out as if by doing so a weight was being lifted off of him. “By the time Steve got here, Peter had made lots of progress already but with Steve hanging around, I don’t know, it was easier. One thing led to another, and the next thing I know Steve and I are kissing and carrying Pete to bed every night.”

“And it scared the hell out of you.”

Pepper gave him a soft, understanding look Tony had never seen anyone else addressing him before and she smiled. She knew him better than anyone else, even better than Rhodes; she’d seen him at his worst, and luckily for him she’d seen him at his best as well, it was just logical she understood what he was going through. Even better than he did himself.

“And it scared the hell outta me,” Tony echoed her. “But it also kind of didn’t. It was weird when I thought about it, but felt normal when I just, I don’t know, just let it happen? It was routine, Pep; we had our daily routine and things were as they’d never been before. It was great.”

“It made you feel like you had a purpose, and someone to share it with. Am I correct?”

She was, as simple as that.

“Then what happened?” Pepper asked, making it easier for him to talk. She had that power on him, she just made things happen even when he found himself resilient.

“Then I woke up this morning and Steve was here, ready to go,” Tony spit out bitterly. “He was just… here, with his bag packed. I’m not even sure he’d have said goodbye if I hadn’t come to find him.”

“Of course he was going to, Tony,” Pepper cut him off abruptly. “You know Steve. He’s not the kind of man who would just leave in the middle of the night without even a note.”

Yes, Tony knew him and no, he wasn’t that kind of guy. But Tony knew Steve was the kind of man who would’ve dropped anything, anyone, if ordered to do something; he was, first and foremost, a soldier, a little detail Tony had come to forget. He’d just thought Steve was a guy who enjoyed spending time together and was going to leave things that way no matter what, he thought Steve valued what they had, what they were heading to. Apparently he was wrong, and the realization had hit him like a punch in his stupid face, and hurt even more.

“Are you mad because he left,” Pepper asked, “or are you mad because you understand why he had to?”

“When did you become a shrink, Potts?”

“Why are you avoiding my question, Stark?”

Tony drank up his wine in one generous sip and got up, walking to the bar to get something else. He felt like having a whiskey, on the rocks just how he liked it, and as he poured himself a glass flashing memories of his late night talks with Steve came hunting him. The lounge had been their place, silence like a blanket around them; they had been enjoying each other’s presence in the dim lights, wrapped up in a sense of comfort and relaxation Tony had never felt before.

Truth was, they had had it all. Pillow talks in the morning, and stupid squabbles over breakfast; laughter and smiles and Peter mocking them from time to time. They’d had a millions of little moments, happy moments in which the world had just disappeared from all around them, and Tony had never truly thought much about it because he’d somehow thought it wasn’t going to end.

“I’m mad because he didn’t even say goodbye to Peter,” Tony muttered, and it was true. It wasn’t what Pepper had asked of him, but it was a part of that truth that oppressed him.

“Peter liked him, Pep. Hell, he adored the man. He’d opened up to him, told him all about the incident and… it drives me mad to think of how Steve left without explaining him.”

“You think Peter’s hurt,” Pepper said, carefully. “You think he might perceive Steve’s going away as going away _from him_.”

“Wouldn’t you think the same?” Tony asked as he let himself fall onto the sofa. “Come on, Pep, this kid has gone through so much, he’s lost everything and when it seems like his life is taking a good turn boom!, something like this happens. Steve leaves, doesn’t tell him why. What would you think?”

Pepper stared back at him for a moment, her eyes wide with incredulity. She looked like she couldn’t believe what he’d just said, but then she seemed to think about it and oh, Tony could see the understanding making its way into her eyes.

“Peter is fifteen, Pep. He doesn’t understand there are other things that actually move people; he hasn’t seen enough of the world to know that our actions, even the most incomprehensible ones, sometimes are dictated by actual good reasons. He can’t understand that, and when it looked like he had someone around who was taking care of him that someone just vanishes into thin air.”

“Did you talk to him?”

Tony shook his head no.

“I’m giving him some time to digest it, then I’ll talk to him.”

“You really have changed, haven’t you?” Pepper asked, genuinely surprised.

She sat silent for a while, looking at him intensely and Tony felt naked, stripped of all the layers he had so cautiously built up over the years to hide him from the world outside. He felt tired, and a little tipsy, and Pepper’s inquisitive eyes didn’t make things any better; he knew she wanted to know more, hell, she _deserved_ it, but he was so drained of all his energies he didn’t feel like he possibly could.

“I’m going to DC the day after tomorrow,” Pepper said then, abruptly forcing him off his train of thoughts. “Would you care to accompany me?”

“And do what, talk to Steve?” Tony let out a rough sound that only resembled a laugh and shook his head no. “Thanks, I think I’ll pass.”

“Tony,” Pepper said as if it was an imploration. “Just –“

She sighed, visibly distressed, but said nothing more. She cleared her throat instead, and when she looked back at him her gaze was as calm as tonight’s sky darkening over New York, which meant some kind of storm was coming. Pepper was always calm before bursting out all over the place, scaring the crap out of him and whoever else had the poor luck to be in her proximity.

“Come on, say it,” Tony encouraged her. It was, after all, inevitable; she was going to tell him whatever it was she was thinking either way, so better do it now and calmly rather than later and angrily.

“I just think you should talk to him, that’s all,” Pepper said quietly, but her eyes were softening already. “You are mature enough to face him and the kind of conversation required, so why not?”

Tony jumped on his feet as if electrified and paced the room, walking around in circles while trying to find the words to explain her why this was a so terrible idea.

He _didn’t want_ to talk to Steve, not now, not after – not after what their life had been in the past weeks, not when Steve had left _him_ without thinking twice of it. This was what hurt the most, feeling like he was the only one who actually _cared_ enough to ask Steve not to go, having to watch Steve being asked to jump and replying just “how high” instead of refusing to.

Steve was a soldier, Tony knew that; he always had. Steve had so badly wanted to join the army, back in the forties, that he’d let some scientists inject him with a dubious serum whose effect and side effects were nothing but a mystery; his patriotism had always been the strongest part of him, so why was Tony so surprised now? Or was he? Maybe deep down he’d always known what they had wasn’t destined to last. It was obvious, if one came to think of it; there was no other way it could’ve ended, they had just been too busy enjoying the feeling of finally _belonging_ to notice.

“Because I can’t,” Tony simply said, covering his eyes with his hands. “I can’t talk to him now, Pep. Not tomorrow, not for a while at least. I’ve been so naïve, I just – I just thought –“

“Oh,” Pepper let out, her lips disclosed and surprise in her eyes. “ _Oh_.”

“Yeah.”

“So you –“

“Yeah.” Tony cleared his throat and sniffed, rubbing his stingy eyes with one hand. “I actually – and I thought… oh, god, I’ve been such an idiot.”

Pepper looked like she wanted to get up and reach him with outstretched hands, then she seemed to think better of it and shifted a little uncomfortably on the sofa instead, pretending to find a more restful position.

“For real?” she simply asked, and Tony barked a laugh, head tilted back and eyes lucid for a moment.

If he was in love with Steve? _Really_ in love with Steve?

“For real.”


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It was just –
> 
> Weird. His heart was still in his chest, Tony could feel it beating, but he couldn’t feel it. It was as if it’d been smashed, crushed until nothing but dust was left, and the emptiness in its stead scared Tony like hell. At night, when Peter was asleep in his room and Tony curled up in bed, he would just feel that emptiness and cold shiver would assault him unexpectedly, making his body tremble violently while beads of cold sweat covered every inch of his skin. He’d felt like he couldn’t breathe, like there was no oxygen left in the room and darkness would close in all around him, bringing him back to a cave in a mountain he hadn’t seen in a long, long time.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Been a long while, but here's another chapter. A bit long, maybe, and a bit dark.   
> Fair warning: panic attacks, hints of depression.   
> It lights up towards the end, so don't worry (much). 
> 
> Hope you enjoy it, and feel free to share your thoughts with me :)
> 
> 'Til next chapter.
> 
> C

Tony hadn’t thought of Steve in a while, now. Or, well, he _had_ thought of him, but when the thought had come knocking to his mind he had just pushed it as far away as possible, relegating it to a dark corner inside of him where he wouldn’t be forced to pay it any attention.

He had been spending time in his lab, mostly reviewing projects and blueprints that had made his main desk look like a minefield of files and papers. He had been spending an incredible amount of time with Peter, too, who still looked a little blue but seemed to be coping alright.

They hadn’t talked about Steve once, or at least not openly – and what was there to say? It had been a week since he’d left them, taking from them so much more than his mere, reassuring presence, and now Tony felt like something was missing, like some fragile balances had been abruptly shattered into pieces. It wasn’t just the hot body in his bed, it weren’t even Steve’s kisses that he missed the most; it was something more subtle, and a lot less tangible instead.

All the little things Steve did for the two of them, like making breakfast or welcoming them in the kitchen first thing in the morning with a soft smile on his face; it was the look in Steve’s eyes every time he had to take Peter in his arms and lay him into his bed. It were all the words Steve had never said out loud but Tony had seen in his blue eyes, the precious moments they’d spent together, the three of them, just sitting silently in the lounge, reading and drawing and watching the television.

Something was broken, and Tony had no idea whether he was capable of giving Peter a life as good without repairing it.

Fury had had the baldness to call him once, during that miserable week – he hadn’t said much, inquired briefly about Peter’s wellbeing and informed Tony that Xavier was ready to welcome the kid in September. End of the story. He’d said nothing about Steve, and Tony hadn’t asked.

It was just –

Weird. His heart was still in his chest, Tony could feel it beating, but he couldn’t _feel it_. It was as if it’d been smashed, crushed until nothing but dust was left, and the emptiness in its stead scared Tony like hell. At night, when Peter was asleep in his room and Tony curled up in bed, he would just feel that emptiness and cold shiver would assault him unexpectedly, making his body tremble violently while beads of cold sweat covered every inch of his skin. He’d felt like he couldn’t breathe, like there was no oxygen left in the room and darkness would close in all around him, bringing him back to a cave in a mountain he hadn’t seen in a long, long time.

Nights were the scariest part of his days, and Tony would do anything to just avoid sleeping. He drank more coffee than ever before, and worked in the lab for days until his body would just shut down and collapse, too exhausted to even stand.

He hadn’t let Peter seen him like that, in a state of panic and terror he didn’t know how to escape from, but the kid wasn’t stupid and Tony knew he’d noticed the dark circles under his eyes.

Then, that Saturday morning JARVIS’s voice found him in the kitchen, cup of coffee in his hands and absent look in his eyes.

_Captain Rogers on line one, sir._

Tony’s gaze darted to Peter, sitting right in front of him. The kid froze on the spot at the familiar name even if preceded by a military rank he’d never heard before, the hand holding his glass of orange juice still in mid-air; his eyes widened imperceptibly for a moment, and when he unfroze and the glass reached his lips his body was tense. Tony clenched his fist on the table, jaw tightened and a hard look in his eyes; he didn’t want to get the phone call, didn’t want to hear Steve’s voice when the man hadn’t even thought of calling him, calling Peter for the past week or so.

“I’ll take it in my office. Thank you, JARVIS.”

_Of course, sir. I will tell Captain Rogers to hold a moment._

“Pete, finish your breakfast,” Tony said as he got up. “I’ll be right back.”

Peter didn’t move or said a thing; instead, he sat still as a statue with a hurt look in his eyes caused by the mention of Steve’s name. Of course, there was no way Peter could be sure it was Steve JARVIS was talking about, but the kid had good instincts and trusted them blindly.

Tony reached the elevator and walked the corridor a couple of floors down at a fast pace, storming inside his office and slamming the door shut behind him. He picked up the phone on the desk and took a deep breath before speaking, his hands shaking lightly.

“Yes?”

_Tony? It’s – it’s me._

“I know it’s you, Rogers,” he said glacially. “How can I help you?”

At the other end of the line Steve sighed heavily and the phone fell silent; Tony waited, heart pounding in his chest and a burning rage boiling the blood in his veins – then Steve sighed again, giving him sign of his presence, and cleared his throat a couple of times.

_I, uh. I just wanted to –_

“Come on, Rogers, I don’t have all day.”

_For God’s sake, Tony! I just wanted to talk to you, dammit. And Peter, I would really like to talk to Peter, too. Why are you making it so difficult to –_

“I’m not making anything difficult,” Tony pungently remarked. “I will ask Peter to come here and pick the phone, if you’d be so kind as to hold the line.”

_Wait, Tony, I wanted to –_

“Sorry, Rogers. Too busy to talk. I’ll have Peter down here in a minute,” Tony said as he put the phone down on his desk. Then, “JARVIS, tell Peter to come to my office. Captain Rogers would like to talk to him on the phone.”

_Yes, sir._

Tony sat down on his leather chair and gazed at the phone as if he wanted to melt it with just one look; he distantly heard something come out of it, probably Steve’s voice, but his chest ached so much he didn’t feel like listening to what the Captain had to say. So he waited, patiently and silently, until he heard Peter timidly knocking on his door and welcomed him inside with a stretched smile and a wave of his hand.

“Here, Steve would like to talk to you,” he said cheerfully as Peter approached the desk insecurely. “Come find me when you’re done, we still have to discuss about your first day of school next week. I’ll be waiting for you in the lounge.”

Tony walked out of the room at a steady pace, as he didn’t want to show Peter how upset he truly was. Once outside, he ran to the lounge and poured himself a glass of lukewarm water he drank up in a couple of generous sips; he moved in front of the window, breath shorter and shorter by the second, and put his hands on the cold glass hoping that the feeling could’ve helped him gain some control back.

It didn’t work.

Tony’s eyes widened but he couldn’t see New York in front of him; he gulped, trying to swallow down the unpleasant and terrifying feeling that had caught him, and put his hands on his chest and throat, gasping for air. He couldn’t breathe. Open-mouthed, he tried to say something but words wouldn’t come out and he slammed his open palms on the window glass.

“JARVIS,” he managed to wheeze, miraculously. “I – help.”

_What is wrong, sir? Do you need me to call a doctor?_

Tony nodded, only to remember his AI was nonetheless an AI and couldn’t see him, no matter how smart and sassy and technologically advanced.

“Attack,” he whispered. “Yes. Doctor.”

A few, terrifying moments of silence followed and Tony felt cold fear grab him in its tight embrace. The light of day vanished all around him, swallowed by a complete nothingness that was going to swallow him too. Then, JARVIS’s voice came back and Tony had never been happier to hear it in his whole life.

_Paramedics from downstairs are on their way, sir. They are in the elevator as we speak. Now, if you would be so kind as to listen to what I say, I would invite you to take a deep breath. In and out, sir. Slowly._

Tony nodded once again and did as asked. He couldn’t see shit, all that nothing was surrounding him completely, but JARVIS was there, everything was gonna be okay. It had to.

So he breathed in, and out. In and out, again and again, while his heart jumped in his chest and ached as if stabbed by a pointy knife.

Tony didn’t hear the elevator’s doors opening, and when someone grabbed him and lay him on the cold floor he just let the darkness absorb him completely.

 

*

 

When he opened his eyes an explosion of light hit them, forcing him to close them again only to try a second time, slowly. From somewhere beside him came the beeping of various machines, and as soon as Tony managed to focus properly he noticed he was in a bed in what looked like a hospital room. When he tried to move he noticed some needles attached to his arm, and a plastic tube to his nose.

He removed all that annoying stuff and maybe it hurt a little, but he didn’t care. He wanted to know what the fuck he was doing on a hospital bed as a first, then he wanted to get the hell out of there and go home.

Which reminded him – Peter. Damn.

Tony got on his feet, stumbling in search of his clothes, which he found neatly folded on a chair not too far. He was halfway through putting on his jeans when the glass door opened and Pepper stormed inside, heels clicking on the cold floor.

“Tony, what the hell –“

“Nice to see you too, Potts,” he cut her off as she approached him and helped him not to miserably fall down. “Now that we’re done with the pleasantries, get me out of this place. I need to go check on Peter and –“

“You are not going anywhere until the doctors say so,” she almost shouted. “Peter is fine, he’s right outside in the waiting room; Natasha is with him.”

At the mention of Widow’s name Tony startled. Did it mean he was in DC? SHIELD HQ, maybe? What if Natasha wasn’t the only Avenger around, what if –

He started breathing heavily and couldn’t find the strength to put up a small fight when Pepper pretty much manhandled him into that uncomfortable bed, making him lay down and putting a glass of fresh water in his hands.

“It’s okay, Tony,” she said soothingly. “You’re okay, you’re here with me. Now, breathe. Come on, in and out, it’s okay, you’re gonna be alright.”

Tony did as she requested and didn’t dare to look at her, ashamed of being seen in that miserable state. Of course, she’d seen his panic attacks up close before, it wasn’t her first rodeo, still he didn’t want her to witness the madness.

“God, Tony, what is going on?” Pepper asked when his breaths came shorter and shorter. “I’m calling a doctor, just wait here.”

Before she could go anywhere Tony grabbed her wrist in a faint attempt to keep her right where she was; Pepper stopped and turned around to face him, then pulled a chair and sat right next to his bed.

“Steve –“

“He’s not here,” Pepper said promptly when she saw the panicked look in his eyes. “I, uh. I’ve called him to let him know what happened to you, but I’ve asked him not to come around. I wasn’t sure you wanted to see him.”

Tony relaxed immediately and fell backwards on the two pillows behind his back; he tilted his head back and took a deep breath, and finally the world stopped spinning around him.

“I, er,” he mumbled. “I don’t. Thank you, Pep.”

“Tony, is this about him?” she asked as she looked directly into his eyes as if she was trying to get the truth from there. “Did you have a panic attack because of him?”

“Next question?”

“ _Tony_.”

And there it was, the tone she always used when she _knew_ he was bluntly lying to her face and suspected what the truth was anyway. She gave him _that_ look – desperate, hard, a little worried – and stretched her lips in a thin line, jaw clenched so hard it looked like it hurt.

“Fine,” he gave in. “I did, okay? I did have a panic attack because of him. He just… called, after he had gone AWOL and I lost it, I guess. No need to worry, Potts, I’m alright, I just need to go home and have a good night sleep. Can you call Peter for me? I don’t want him to worry, too.”

“Tony –“

“Peter, Pepper,” he cut her off. “Please.”

Pepper sighed, visibly exasperated and exhausted; she bit her lower lip like she always did when he said something she strongly disagreed with, but got up without another word. Tony watched her walk away with her back straight and her shoulders tensed.

“Thank you,” he added, and maybe she didn’t hear it or maybe she did, he couldn’t know. God, this was a mess. He was in a stupid SHIELD hospital, surrounded by every kind of operative Agent and, possibly, Avengers, and Peter was spending some quality time with Natasha Romanoff.

“Hey.”

Tony jerked his head and there was Peter, standing on the door with a heavy look in his eyes. He looked pale, and maybe just a little scared; he was shifting his weight from one leg to the other and his gaze couldn’t stay fixed on Tony, turning to his shoelaces instead.

“Hey, kid,” Tony almost whispered. He gestured Peter to come closer and he did, slowly, hesitantly.

“Come sit on this horrible chair,” he talked on. “You’re gonna hate it, I swear.”

Peter’s lips curled upwards in the hint of a smile and he did as told, sitting on the chair Pepper had pulled over next to the bed not too long before.

“Sorry about this,” Tony said with a vague gesture of his hand. “Wasn’t planned. Didn’t mean to scare you or something, and trust me when I say they are all overreacting. There was no need to put me in here, I swear. In fact, we’re gonna be back home before dinner.”

Peter nodded, the emotions in his green eyes lighting a little. He looked relieved, and more tired than Tony had ever seen him; his hair was the usual, untameable mess and Tony felt like ruffling it with his hands.

“So, how about pizza? Pepperoni, your favourite,” Tony smirked and he slowly sat on the edge of the bed, grabbing his shirt and freeing himself from the stupid hospital gown. “I’ll ask JARVIS to order some while we’re on our way.”

Peter nodded again, visibly more relaxed than only a few moments before. He smirked as he helped Tony come out of the infernal hospital dress and when they accomplished the mission, Tony wore his old Metallica shirt in no time. He picked his belongings from a shelf nearby, mostly his StarkPhone and his wallet, then put a hand on Peter shoulder and led him out of the insufferable room.

“So, you don’t need to stay in here?” Peter asked as they walked down a corridor, looking up at Tony expectantly and with a little anxiety painted on his face. Tony shook his head no and shrugged as to minimize the entity of what had happened, and gifted Peter with a wide, reassuring smile.

“I don’t _need_ to,” he said. “They probably want me to, but who cares anyway. We’re going home, and we’re going now. Besides, I hate hospitals, and SHIELD ones even more.”

“Yeah, don’t like hospitals either.”

Tony gave a heart-felt laugh and stopped in front of the elevator, Peter right by his side. He didn’t like being at the Headquarters, he didn’t like the idea of being in an environment he didn’t feel comfortable in without even his suit.

When the doors opened Tony sighed heavily as he watched Natasha and Pepper give him a sceptical look. God, there was no way they were going to let him go easily, was there? Dammit.

“And where do you think you’re going?”

“Home?” Tony offered as he and Peter stepped inside, doors finally closing. He pushed the ground floor button and looked at Natasha with a grin on his face.

“Hey, Romanoff. Long time, no see.”

“Been a while, Stark,” Natasha said in a flat, inexpressive voice, but Tony saw a sparkle in her eyes. “I’ve been training the youngsters here in DC, but you already know that. How’d you like to have the tower all by yourself?”

“Peter’s there, so it isn’t as quiet as it was when you guys moved out,” Tony said as lightly as he could, trying to ignore that stingy pain he was growing accustomed to. “You should come for dinner, sometimes. Give me a call or ask JARVIS to arrange something, and say hi to the Hawk for me, yeah?”

“Tony –“

“Pepper, would you please tell Happy to come pick me up at the front? I’ll check out and be there in ten.”

Tony waved his hand goodbye and ran out of the elevator as soon as the door opened, Peter right behind him. He rushed to the front desk where a blond, mediocre young woman was closely examining her pink-painted nails; he cleared his throat to get her attention, and when she finally looked up from her favourite pastime she glanced at him annoyingly.

“I’d like to sign the release form and go home, please.”

The receptionist asked him for the room he’d been staying and printed the forms he had to carefully read and sign before being able of actually walking away from that place; Tony shrugged at Peter and started checking that the details on the forms were alright, and when he considered himself satisfied he signed every stupid page.

“So, you actually met Natasha.”

“Yeah,” Peter shrugged. “She’s cool. Is she –“

“An Avenger? Yes. The most famous Black Widow. Don’t tell her I told you that, she would probably kill me with bare hands.”

Peter laughed a little and patiently waited for him to be done with the paperwork. Finally free, Tony escorted him to the front door where a black Lamborghini was parked, Happy right next to it with a cigarette in his hand; as soon as he saw them, the driver let the cigarette fall on the ground and stepped on it, opening then the door to let Tony and Peter in the car.

“Hello, sir,” he greeted. “Where to?”

“Back at the Tower, Happy. Thank you.”

Tony relaxed against the seat and closed his eyes for a moment, weary and a little dizzy; he enjoyed the silence for a while, the engine roar the only noise breaking it. His StarkPhone buzzed in his pocket but he didn’t pick it up; surely it was Pepper, texting him and worrying about his health conditions.

“This wasn’t your first time, was it?” Peter asked all of a sudden, and Tony shook his head before opening his eyes. He didn’t want to lie to Peter, the kid didn’t deserve it; beside, he must’ve worried quite a lot, seeing him black out like he had.

“No,” Tony said quietly. “No, it wasn’t. It doesn’t always happen like this, of course; usually it’s some minor attack, fades off real quick. But I guess sometimes I just overload and boom, here’s the result.”

Peter gave him a quick look, then turned to look at the road ahead of them. He was silent, thoughtful, and Tony wondered what was going on in that little head of his, what was he thinking of. He didn’t have to wonder for long though, for Peter spoke again not a couple of minutes later.

“Was it because of Steve’s call?” he asked in a low voice.

Tony sighed. No lies, right? Hell, it wasn’t going to be easy.

“I believe it was, yes,” he said. “Talking to Steve was probably what triggered the whole thing, but I have been suffering from panic attacks for a long time, now. So, it was because of Steve and it wasn’t.”

“Was it because of something he told you on the phone?”

Tony shook his head.

“No, we… uh, we didn’t talk much. Mostly, he wanted to talk to you.”

“I will ask him not to call again,” Peter stated, his eyes sad but resolute. “I will –“

“Nonsense,” Tony cut him off and cupped his face with one hand, forcing Peter to look at him. “Hey, there’s no need for you to do that, okay? Steve likes you, he wants to talk you and you like him back, it’d be stupid if you just told him to stop calling. It’s okay, Peter, I swear. I want you to talk to him, he’s fond of you, you know?”

“Yeah,” Peter whispered. “Yeah, I know, but –“

“No ‘buts’ and no nonsense,” Tony said, patting his cheek lightly. “Now, let’s get some rest, it’s a long drive. We’ll stop to get ice cream on our way home. I know you love ice cream. Ben & Jerry’s?”

“Yeah, Ben & Jerry’s perfect.”

Tony relaxed on his seat and didn’t miss the small, quiet smile on Peter’s face.

 

*

 

Living with Peter was easy, and funny. Tony was so busy taking care of him, dividing himself between the kid and his work his days just seemed to fly away so quickly. It was nice having to wake up early in the morning to make Peter some breakfast and find something for him to do, sending him around the tower with Pepper or showing him the huge library downstairs.

Now that he’d come back from the hospital Peter seemed to be more cheerful, his smiles were a little wider and his eyes lighter. He looked… well, happy.

“I was thinking, school starts tomorrow,” Tony said at the breakfast table. “So I wanted to give you a little something, let’s call it a good luck gift.”

Peter looked surprised, as if he could have never expected anything like that to happen – as if it was too incredible someone would just _think_ of giving him a present of any sort.

“It’s down in the lab,” Tony said. “Come on, you can finish your breakfast later. I want to know what you think of it first.”

“Okay.”

Peter gladly abandoned his bowl of milk and cereals and followed him into the elevator, eyes darting at the number sliding on the command panel as they descended quickly. Tony smiled to himself, curious of what Peter reaction to the gift would be.

He just wanted to make his last summer day special. School was gonna occupy most of his time and they were going to see each other much less than they had since Peter had gotten there; it seemed just fair Peter went through the transformation with a little something to help him stay positive and happy.

_Good morning, sir. The data analysis you had launched on the new vibranium compound has finished. Would you like to see the results?_

“Not now, thanks, JARVIS,” Tony quickly reply as the lab doors opened and closed behind him and Peter. “I’ll give it a look later. Now it’s time to give Peter that little thing we talked about.”

_Of course, sir. I am most curious to know what young Peter thinks of it, sir._

“You and me both, buddy.”

“Wait, JARVIS knows what it is?” Peter asked, incredulity in his voice. Tony shrugged.

“Of course he knows, Pete. It’s JARVIS, he knows everything.”

Peter scowled at him but it didn’t last longer than a moment; he got immediately distracted by Dummy, whirring at his side with expectation and robotic happiness. Since the very first moment they’d met, Dummy had developed for Peter some sort of devotion he’d used to direct only to Tony; Peter, on his account, liked Dummy an awful lot and spent time with the bot whenever he could, building small things together and messing with Tony’s prototypes more often than not.

“Does Dummy know what it is, too?” Peter asked as he patted the bot’s head absent-mindedly, and Tony laughed out loud.

“No, god, no,” he said. He led Peter to the other side of the lab, walking between tables and junk laying around until they reached a desk where some suit lay, untouched.

The suit was small, made in spandex just like the ones belonging to the Avengers; it was primarily blue, a bright blue that reminded Tony of Steve’s eyes, and red as the iron suit Tony loved so much. It had a spider surrounded by a web printed in black chest-high, and the same web pattern on the head, hands and feet.

“I saw the suit you had,” Tony said. “The one you tried to escape in and I confiscated? I know I never gave it back. I examined the web-launching mechanism planted in the sleeves, I’m impressed. I, uh. I did something to make the mechanism smoother and quicker, I thought you might appreciate it. So, er. Here it is. Your good-luck gift.”

“This is –“

Peter looked shocked, incredulous as if he couldn’t believe his eyes; he gazed at Tony, than at the suit, back and forth once or twice, only to get closer to the desk and pick up the piece of clothing in his hands. He looked at it in astonishment, admiring it from every possible angle, turning the spandex in his hands all over and over again as he analysed every little detail; his eyes lingered on the sleeves where the new mechanism had been installed and observed in admiration and awe the way it fit perfectly.

“It’s – er,” Peter said, then cleared his throat without directly looking at him. “Well, it’s amazing. Thank you, Tony.”

“My pleasure, kiddo. Just, I’d like you to try it out down in the gym where I can supervise. Okay?”

Peter nodded, speechless and immensely grateful, and Tony realized that was the first time ever the kid had called him by his first name.

 

*

 

It was long after dinner when Peter’s excitement finally wore off and he collapsed on the couch, exhausted. He had spent the whole day in the gym trying out his brand new suit, and Tony had just stayed and watched him.

Peter was incredible, there was no other word to describe him; he could just jump and cling on the walls as if it was the most normal of things. He would climb and move up the ceiling, defying gravity and amazing Tony with his every move. He was a wonder, and the equivalent of a human spider.

Tony had never seen anything this beautiful in his whole life, a so natural half-mutant with extraordinary abilities he could learn to use and amplify with a suit he had designed and built himself.

And now, Peter was fast asleep in his bed after Tony had carried him and he, well, he was back at the lounge with another glass in his hand, trying to order the thoughts that streamed in his head at a fast speed.

He still couldn’t believe he had been taken to SHIELD hospital, and for what? A panic attack. A fucking panic attack. This was so stupid, he’d thought he was past that – the cave, the abduction, those were good reasons to suffer from panic attacks. This? Hearing Steve’s voice over a stupid phone? This wasn’t. He’d thought he was better than that, he knew better than to just let someone else mess with his life to the point of leaving him senseless on the floor.

And Peter, god, Peter had been so scared, anxiety clear in his green eyes when he had entered that hospital room, and Tony – he couldn’t let that happen again. He couldn’t stand the look in the kid’s eyes, couldn’t stand to watch his pale, tired face all stretched. Peter needed to be happy, to enjoy what life still had to give him; hell, the kid _deserved_ to be happy after everything he’d been put through, and Tony wanted to give it to him. Sure, he couldn’t _buy_ Peter happiness, but sure as hell he could do anything in his power to make his life a little easier, starting immediately.

“JARVIS, set the alarm on six tomorrow,” he said as he drank the last drops of his whiskey. “I’m taking Peter to school myself. I should also try to make him breakfast, which is a task I am going to fail spectacularly but who cares, it’s worth a try.”

_Of course, sir. Might I suggest cereals and toasts for tomorrow, and maybe some fruits._

“Excellent suggestion, JARVIS. Ask Rosita to make him some lunch too, when she gets here.”

_Will do, sir._

“Good. I’d better try and get some sleep. Remember, wake up call at six. Wake Peter at seven, he doesn’t need as much time as I do to get ready. I’d like coffee ready by six, as well.”

_It will be done, sir._

Tony yawned and got up, looking around for a while. The lounge was as silent as it always was at that time of night, but colder and less comfortable than Tony remembered it; the television was on but on mute, some old episodes of Doctor Who playing in the background, and all the lights were off but for one Liberty lamp, casting coloured shadows all around.

Tony sighed and stretched a little, bones cracking, tiredness closing his eyes. It wasn’t even midnight yet, and the sky above New York shone with city lights and stars; usually, he’d been in full operational mode by this hour, but Peter staying with him had changed his habits drastically. Tony couldn’t help but smile at the thought of himself living as every other normal person on the planet, waking up early and going to sleep at decent hours; it was new, and unprecedented, but not as dreadful as he’d have expected.

He abandoned the lounge at a slow pace, walking the familiar corridors while pictures and portraits on the wall watched his every move. He passed an old picture of Howard taken in what had been his lab, back in the old days; Tony stopped for a moment in front of it, head cocked on a side as if he was trying to decipher his father’s expression in the picture. Howard looked busy, and smart, and happy, surrounded by his life’s work, and Tony felt the usual sting of pain in his heart as every time the memory of his father flashed bright in his mind.

He missed him; it had been more than twenty years since Howard and Maria’s death, and not a day passed without Tony missing them greatly. Sometimes he wondered what his life would have been if only they’d been still alive, sometimes he just missed all the moments that had been so violently stolen from them as a family. Moments he was now sharing with Peter, and since it was a first he truly had no idea whether he was doing right or wrong. It was like riding a car so fast and not knowing whether you were going to crash against some walls or streetlamps, or actually make it to the end of the line intact, and Tony wondered if that was what parenting felt like; he wondered if Howard had ever felt like this in bringing him up, if Maria had ever had doubts about the choices she made for him and feared their outcome.

_Sir._

Tony shivered out of his thoughts to JARVIS’s voice and resumed his walk to his room.

“What, now?”

_Captain Rogers on line one, sir._

“I’m not in the mood, JARVIS.”

_The Captain sounds really distressed, sir. I would think it a good idea if you just heard what he has to say. It might actually do you both good. Sir._

“I didn’t create you to think, JARVIS,” Tony snapped as he entered his room. “Well, I _did_ create you to think, but not to meddle in my private affairs.”

Tony fell backwards on the bed, legs dangling over, arms crossed behind his head. It was late, he was tired and with only a few hours of sleep ahead he was very likely going to lose if he kept thinking about Steve, or worse, if he’d talked to him.

_I would ask you to reconsider, sir. But I will tell Captain Rogers you are not available if that is what you truly wish._

Tony didn’t want to reconsider; he didn’t, because he knew that if he had he would have probably changed his mind. He didn’t _want to_ talk to Steve, but at the mere mention of his name he’d felt that sickness he was getting used to.

Truth was, he missed him. Badly. Hell, he missed it all, and that absence was what was constantly taking his breath away, leaving him gasping for the air and oxygen he’d been deprived of since Steve had left. But he couldn’t keep going on like that, could he? With the panic attacks and sleepless nights, days ruined by his bad mood with the lab as the ultimate safe place he could hide into. He owed Peter more than that, he’d promised himself to give the kid a better life and he couldn’t do it if he wasn’t ready to face his own demons first. Hell.

“Fine, JARVIS,” Tony sighed. “I’ll get it on my phone.”

_Wise choice, sir. I am forwarding the call to your StarkPhone right now._

“Time to face your demons, Tony,” he muttered under his breath as he picked his phone from the night stand and Steve’s voice came out of it, low and a little muffled.

_Tony?_

He took a deep breath. He could do it, he _had_ to.

“Yeah,” he said, voice a little croaky. “I’m here.”

Tony focused on his breath – _in and out, in and out_ – and the line fell silent for a few moments, only Steve’s short breath coming out of the phone.

“What is it, Rogers?”

_I, uh. I just wanted to know how you’re feeling._

Tony let out a strangled laugh and closed his eyes. That was so typical of Steve, being a super nice guy even after everything that’d happened to them; he was just this incredibly good man who would always think of others first, putting his own needs and feelings aside.

“I’m great, never felt better. Thanks for asking.”

_Tony…_

“Don’t, Steve,” Tony murmured into the phone. “Just – please, don’t.”

_I was just – Pepper called, said you were in the hospital, of course I got worried. She, uhm. She asked me not to come over, but I guess you know that. It was probably your idea in the first place, and I –_

“It wasn’t.”

_What?_

“My idea,” Tony rectified. “It wasn’t my idea. But she did the right thing, Steven. I was in no condition to meet you.”

_Oh._

Steve’s disappointment was clear in his voice; it was also mixed with an aching sadness that made Tony feel like he was coming short of oxygen again. When the room started spinning around him, Tony closed his eyes and inhaled deeply, mentally reminding himself he was home, and safe, as far away from any danger as possible.

_I, uhm. Well, there’s not much I can do, or say about it, I guess. I just – I’d like to come see you, if that’s alright. I –_

“I –“ Tony cut him off. “I’m not sure it’s a good idea.”

He heard Steve deflating like a balloon at the other end of the line; he could picture way too well his blue eyes going dark, heavy with the words that were now stuck in his throat. Tony could picture the frown on his face, the way he was torturing his hands in his lap, or how he was cupping his face in his hands. It was breaking him. Hell, this was breaking them both more than they already were.

“I mean, tomorrow’s Pete’s first day of summer school,” Tony added quickly. “It’s gonna be a tough week, I think, and between that and all the work I have to do in the lab I’m not sure –“

_I get it._

Brief, icy. Steve was the one who had left, and now Tony was the one feeling guilty about the way their conversation was going. It wasn’t his fault, Tony had to repeat that in his mind all over and over again until the words sunk in and rooted; it wasn’t his fault he had been getting panic attacks, it wasn’t his fault he hadn’t slept a night since the day Steve had gone away.

“Look, Steve –“

_It’s alright, Tony. I won’t do anything that might harm you. I’ve never meant to, believe it or not. I just –_

That was it, the moment Tony had been unconsciously fearing. The moment Steve would just give up, surrender and leave again because Tony was just driving him in that direction without even knowing it. Steve was going to hung up and never call again, because he probably believed Tony was better off that way, and Steve was too good a man to do anything that might have caused Tony any pain.

“I can’t sleep,” Tony blurted out before Steve could have the chance to actually end the phone call. “Been a while, now. I can’t sleep. Every night I go to bed, close my eyes and something happens, something triggers and I just – I can’t breathe, and I get cold, and I don’t sleep.”

Tony waited, in silence, as he listened to Steve’s breath on the phone – it was short at first, as if Steve couldn’t breathe either, then it seemed to relax and go back to a more normal, steady pace.

_This is why you ended up in the hospital?_

“I believe it is, yes.”

_Is it – these episodes, are they –_

“Panic attacks,” Tony nodded. “They are panic attacks, Steven. I have been suffering from them for quite a long time, now. It seemed I was getting better for a while, but I guess I was wrong.”

_You never had any episode when I… it started when I –_

“Yes.”

There was no point in lying to the man, Tony thought. Steve was smart enough to do his math and jump to the right conclusions in no time.

“It started again when you left,” he continued. “Look, I don’t want you to think it all happened because of you, okay? I don’t – damn, I don’t want you taking this weight on your shoulders, Steve. It just happened. I’m already getting better now.”

Steve sighed and said nothing while Tony felt his heart hammering in his chest. He had never been this honest with anyone in this life, he hadn’t even _tried_ , but everything was different when Steve was involved; he just deserved the truth, which was the only thing Tony had to offer now. He deserved it, and maybe it hurt almost as much as the feeling in Tony’s chest, but there was no avoiding that.

_I… I just want to see you, Tony. Please, let me come see you, let me see how better you’re getting. Let me – let me be there for Peter’s first day._

“Steve –“

_Don’t shut me out, Tony,_ Steve whispered, almost desperately. _Please, don’t shut me out._

The desperation was high in his voice, a peak of intense pain that Tony felt constantly these days, and he felt his heart ache too to the sound of Steve’s broken voice; his eyes were stinging with the tears he was so hardly try to swallow back and the lump in his throat was suffocating him.

He wanted Steve to be there. He wanted Steve to come back and never leave again, he wanted him to stay right there for as long as they could breathe and live, he couldn’t even think of them living apart because that wasn’t living. It was hell, constant and ever burning hell, a pitch so deep and dark it was scary, and Tony couldn’t do it; he couldn’t keep on living on the edge of a cliff that high, not knowing when the slightest wind would just sweep him off and into the abyss.

“Steve, I –“

Tony felt the world closing in around him and closed his eyes, trying to remember something as simple as breathing.

What if Steve came back? What if he’d got to stay for a while? He was going to leave again, there was no stopping that; there was nothing in the known world that would’ve kept Steve away from his duty, would’ve made him disobey orders he didn’t even believe in. What then?

_I can’t do this, Tony, I can’t. I can’t stay here and think of you, not knowing if you’re alright or not. I can’t. Let me come see you, Tony, I need to see you. I need –_

“I need you, Steve,” Tony managed to let out before the sobbing started. “I need you, and it’s scary how badly I need you because I don’t know if I can be without you anymore. I need you, and I can’t see you knowing you will leave again. I’m sorry, Steve, I can’t, I –“

_I don’t_ want to _leave, Tony. For God’s sake, do you think I like this? Do you think I can just carry on with my life, pretending what we have never happened? Damn, Tony, I just –_

“Tell me you’ll stay,” Tony cut him off, and his voice sounded full of hopes even to his ears. “Tell me you’ll stay, Steve. Tell me you won’t leave again, not when there’s no need for you to –“

_I can’t. Tony, I can’t tell you I won’t go back if Fury wants me to, I can’t just –_

Tony’s heart felt heavy in his chest, and he knew it was badly cracked already; it was barely holding it together, his heart, and Steve’s words were just adding another crack to the others – but it was too much, wasn’t it? Tony knew it couldn’t take it anymore.

“Come see Peter, if you want,” Tony let out, and he felt so tired it hurt. “Come see him, I can’t and won’t keep you away from him. He needs you, Steve, maybe more than I do.”

_Tony, I –_

“But I can’t do this,” he said in a low, barely audible voice. “I can’t put myself through it, Steve. I’ll tell Peter you called, I’ll tell him – uh, I’ll tell him you’ll come by to spend some time with him. Just… please, let me know when you will, I will have him ready to meet you at the ground floor.”

_Tony, please –_

“Goodnight, Steven.”

Tony threw the phone to the floor with a loud bang, but that wasn’t the only noise he could hear in the dead of night. There was another noise, louder and scarier, and Tony knew that that, right there, was the clanging sound of his heart shattering into billions of tiny little pieces he was never going to glue back together again.

 

*

 

_It’s six in the morning, sir. The weather is one of the best we’ve had this year, sunny, seventy-eight degrees Fahrenheit. Coffee is ready in the kitchen, and Rosita has already taken care of young Peter’s lunch, sir._

Tony opened his eyes with some difficulties, sticky as they were from the crusted tears he hadn’t wiped away the night before.

JARVIS opened the curtains and a warm light came in, hitting the room and colouring it in gold.

Tony rolled over in his bed and pressed a pillow on his face as to cast the light away from his burning red eyes; he hid underneath the softness until it became hard to breathe and he had to emerge again, facing the light his eyes didn’t seem to stand.

“Alright, I’m awake.”

Six in the morning. He was awake at six in the morning after a night of zero or almost no sleep.

His body ached badly and he felt too tired to even stand; when he abandoned the safety and comfort of his bed, Tony felt all dizzy and leaned against the night stand for a moment, trying to make the world stop turning all around him. Maybe some coffee was gonna do him good, maybe –

He had pushed Steve away, he had clearly told him to stay away from him because he couldn’t stand to see him when he knew it wasn’t going to last. Steve’s voice echoed in his mind like a knife cutting through his skin, leaving him bloody on the ground; Steve’s voice had broken under the weight of his words and it hurt Tony more than he could bare it.

He’d told Steve not to come back for him even if he knew Steve was the only chance of a sparkle of happiness he would ever get, and Tony felt broken, and scared, and alone in the world. He had pushed Steve away and lost it all, and the abyss was only a couple of feet away from him now.

He should’ve never let Steve come this close to him, see what was behind the mask; he should’ve never trusted him so blindly, or kissed him, or told him he loved him because all those feelings were lacerating him from the inside now, all those words cutting right to the bone and he felt lost, stumbling through the world the exact way he was now stumbling through the familiar corridors of his tower, barely able to stand.

His guts were heavy, made of the same steel he had built his suit with, and he felt nauseous, on the verge of throwing up all the words he’d told Steve the night before and were now corroding his insides like acid.

He didn’t even know how he managed to walk to the kitchen, pouring coffee in a cup being the first clear memory of the day only to slip over to the couch and forget it all again, trying to wipe away every memory he’d ever had in his whole life because he couldn’t deal with it now, not when this was Peter’s big day, not when he had to be there for the kid and support him in this new, exciting moment of his life.

Tony closed his eyes and tilted his head back, and the room started spinning into different shapes and colours, turning into something incredibly blue resembling the dark shade in Steve’s eyes; he tried to escape, tried to run away from everything, tried to scream but found himself silent, incapable of emitting sound.

_Sir, it’s seven in the morning. Peter is coming for breakfast._

Oh. Oh.

He must’ve dozed off – and, well, it was understandable since he hadn’t been able to sleep because of –

“Hey, kiddo,” Tony said, as cheerfully as he could, but he knew Peter would notice the dark circles around his eyes soon enough. “Breakfast’s ready. Well, I can’t make pancakes, but I can make you some toasts and a bowl full of Lucky Charms. And fruit, JARVIS suggested I fed you fruit, seems like it’s good and healthy. Of course, I wouldn’t know.”

Peter glanced at him quite sceptically but didn’t ask intrusive questions, and Tony silently sighed in relief as he followed him to the kitchen and made the kid the worst breakfast of his life.

They ate in silence – well, Peter ate his improvised breakfast, Tony just sipped three cups of coffee as quickly as he could, burning his tongue in the process – and Peter went to get dressed for his big day. Tony showered fast, not even enjoying the feeling of the hot water jet on his skin, and jumped into an old pair of jeans he matched with a Slayer t-shirt only to find out, not too long after, Peter had opted for a similar look, even if his shirt pictured the Ramones instead.

“Good choice,” Tony said as he pointed his finger at him. “Not a big fans of them myself, but they were undeniably good. Now. Are you ready? Did you get everything?”

Peter half-turned to show him his black backpack filled with all kind of stationery – pens, notebooks, everything Tony had managed to get his hands on.

“Yeah, got everything I need,” Peter said with a nervous smile. “Let’s go, wouldn’t wanna be late on my first day.”

Tony chuckled and nodded, grabbing his car keys from the coffee table where he’d left them a few days back and walked to the elevator, Peter right on his heels.

“So, how are you feeling? A little nervous, maybe?”

“I’m fine. You’re the one who looks like he’s got hit by a truck or two.”

“Can’t hide anything from you, can I?

“Come on, ol’ man, you haven’t even tried.”

Peter’s smirk slowly faded into a thin line stretching his lips, and he looked more serious than Tony had ever seen him; he didn’t look directly at him and stared at his reflection in the mirror instead, unsure whether to say something or not.

“Come on, spit it out,” Tony encouraged him. “I can take it, you know?”

Peter sighed and lowered his eyes, biting his lower lips in a way that reminded Tony a lot of one Steve Rogers and he had to ignore the surge of pain invading his body with a shiver.

“It’s just,” Peter said, then shut up when the doors opened and they found themselves in the garage. Tony led him to the red Lamborghini he suspected being his favourite and they jumped in.

Peter threw his backpack on the almost non-existent back seat and fixed his gaze on the windshield in front of him while Tony turned on the radio and lowered the volume so that it wouldn’t disturb or prevent any attempt of conversation.

“What is it, Pete?”

“Did you talk to Steve last night?” Peter asked bluntly, and Tony froze for a moment.

“How’d you know?”

“I, er. I heard JARVIS telling you of an incoming call from him. I presume you were right outside my bedroom when it happened.”

Tony started the engine that roared beneath him and nodded as he drove the car out the garage.

“Seat-belt,” he reminded Peter, and the kid obliged. “And yes, Steve called last night.”

“Are you, er.”

Tony briefly turned to look at him, and Peter returned his gaze with a shakier one, as if he wasn’t sure he had the right to ask him if he was okay or not.

“I’m okay, Pete,” Tony said, saving him from the indecision. “We talked for a while. He, uhm. He will come see you, one of these days, if it’s okay with you.”

“He said so?” Peter asked, and Tony couldn’t ignore the hint of happiness and hope in his voice. He smiled softly to that, wishing he could preserve forever all those good feelings that made Peter’s eyes shine so bright.

“Yeah, he did. I think he might come around soon, he was very excited for your first day of school.”

“And is it okay with you? If he comes around?”

Tony sighed lightly, eyes on the traffic that was going to drive him mad shortly.

“Don’t worry about that, Pete,” he said. “Just enjoy your first day, for now. I bet it’s gonna be fun.”

“Let’s hope so.”

Tony gave him half a smile before focusing back on the road ahead of them, where all of New York seemed to be stuck and incredibly angry.

 

*

 

The house was silent when Peter wasn’t around.

Not that they spent every single moment together when he was, but at least Tony knew he was there somewhere, maybe in his room or in the library (the kid didn’t seem to like the gym much, except when he got to practise with his new suit). Now it was just, well, too silent, and it didn’t really matter the tower was full of people only a few floors down. Peter wasn’t there, and the upper floor echoed with his absence just like it seemed to echo with Steve’s.

Tony poured himself another cup of hot steaming coffee and leaned against the kitchen counter, staring into nothingness; he thought of calling Pepper, thinking that hearing her familiar voice was maybe going to help with the sense of solitude he was feeling right now. Then he thought better of it, since she was probably too busy running the company to deal with his emotional crap. So yeah, no calling Pepper, no calling anyone to get his mind off the heavy thoughts that were burdening him. Awesome.

“JARVIS, how long before I gotta go pick Peter up?”

_Six hours, forty minutes, sir._

Great. Just great. Six hours of doing absolutely nothing, because he was in that state of mind and couldn’t get any work done even if he wanted to.

Tony sighed and walked to the lounge, sitting on the sofa while he asked JARVIS to turn the television on. Maybe he would just distract himself a little, numbing his mind in front of the plasma screen; maybe he could’ve taken a nap to help time pass a little quicker.

Settling more comfortable on the sofa, right next to what had used to be Steve’s favourite spot, Tony prepared himself to an awful, super dull day and let his mind free to wander off while some old Star Trek episodes played in front of him without him paying much attention.

 

*

 

Tony parked the Lamborghini outside Peter’s school a good half an hour before the lessons actually ended for the day. He stayed inside the car, listening to the radio and just humming along, trying to clear his mind; he tried to lift a little that weird sense of anxiety he was feeling, which was different from the panic he was used to. This felt more like holding his breath for as long as he could, only he hadn’t let go already; he was still sucking the air in, waiting to exhale loudly.

He did so the very second he spotted Peter coming out the iron gates that separated them, backpack on his shoulder and a knackered expression on his face. Tony felt something stuck in his throat as he observed the kid walk alone while other kids his age were already bonding, walking in groups and laughing loudly.

Peter was that kind of kid, Tony thought with a sense of fondness given by the memory of himself at his age; the one who would sit alone in class, who didn’t need to study too hard to excel in everything he did, who would always be pointed at as a nerd. Oh, high school was hell to people like them – but Peter would get through it, just like Tony had a life or so before. Things were going to get better for him, in time; everything was just going to be alright in the end.

Tony smiled as Peter looked up from his apparently super interesting shoelaces and waved his hand at him, smile getting wider as Peter’s eyes lightened a little and he walked up to the car.

“Hey, kid.”

“Hey.”

“So?” Tony inquired as he took Peter’s backpack and threw it on the back seat, jumping on the car immediately after. “How did it go? Come on, spit it out, don’t make me sound like the snoop I totally am.”

Peter laughed a little at that and relaxed on the seat.

“Well, it wasn’t that bad, I guess,” he said quietly, but didn’t look too happy anyway. “I mean, they started a literature program that’s made for dummies, really, and the science one is even worse – but it seems to work for everyone else in class, so I guess it’s okay.”

“What kind of literature program?”

“Oh, you know,” Peter made a vague move of his hands. “The classics. They started with Shakespeare and introduced the rhymes.”

“And science?”

“Notions of basic physics.”

Peter raised an eyebrow at him and Tony laughed out loud.

“Notions of –“ he said, still laughing, as he launched the car into the traffic. “Are you serious?”

“Deadly,” Peter replied with a gaze that suggested he was, very much. Tony shook his head in disbelief, still chuckling quietly, and automatically patted Peter on his leg.

“It’ll get better,” he said, encouragingly. “We read the programs together, remember? They seemed quite promising, it’s probably just a matter of time before things get interesting. How about your classmates? Are they nice? Boring? Idiotic? Assholes?”

“Mostly stupid,” Peter shrugged. “But some of them aren’t that bad.”

“Any interesting girl?” Tony pushed a little, but the glare Peter gave him in return made him shut up immediately. “Alright, no talking about girls. Got it. Where do you wanna go for dinner?”

“I don’t know,” Peter said. “Shawarma, maybe?”

“Excellent choice, kid.”

Tony smirked and took a turn left as soon as he could, cutting through smaller streets to get to the very first place they’d had dinner at. It had been the day Steve had come to the tower to check on them and had ended up staying for a while instead; they’d brought Peter to the same place the Avengers had dinner after their first, big battle against the Chitauri.

Tony’s smile cracked a little and he turned up the radio while some old song from Aerosmith was playing. Melancholic music, figures.

“Can I ask you something?”

“Shoot.”

“I’d like to, er –“ Peter mumbled, then paused for a moment, long enough for Tony to sense something was up and turn to look at him. “I’d like to call Steve. If it’s okay by you.”

Tony exhaled the breath he hadn’t notice he’d been holding and that odd sense of anxiety he was slowly getting used to faded away.

“Of course it’s okay,” he said. “Here, take my phone.”

Tony handed him his StarkPhone and turned the radio down a little as not to bother him; he carefully focused his eyes on the road, trying not to mind too much Peter’s business by overhearing his conversation with Steve – but, well, they were in the car, there was actually no way he could have avoided that.

Peter searched for Steve’s number in the contacts list and found him under the name of Rogers, then pressed the call button and waited as the phone rang.

Tony knew the kid missed Steve, that he needed to talk to him, that Steve’s silence had been hurting Peter more than he would ever admit; and it was okay, it truly was, because Steve made Peter feel better with his only presence and they had shared and built something incredible together.

“Steve? It’s, uh, it’s Peter.”

Tony took a deep breath and abandoned every thought of Steve, staring at the magnificent city skyline and letting the colours in the sky hypnotise him. There were different reasons why he loved New York so much, but its colours at dawn and sunset were probably one of the most important; the sky was getting of a lavender purple, streaked with the red and golden rays of the dying sun. It just looked magical, like a landscape from a fairy tale, and Tony wasn’t one for fairy tales but damn, he loved that scenery.

“Yeah, it was okay,” he heard Peter say into the phone. Then, “Really? When? Okay, I’ll tell him. Yeah, see you soon.”

“He asked if he can come around tomorrow after school,” Peter told him as he returned the StarkPhone. “Is it okay?”

“Yeah. Yeah, ‘course it’s okay, kid.”

“He’ll come pick me up and drop me at the tower after dinner.”

“Sure.”

 

*

 

“I’ve heard Tony Stark came pick him up at school.”

“Yeah, I saw him with my own eyes. Can you believe that? Why would he do that, are they related or something?”

“No idea. Stark has no family that everyone knows of. Maybe he’s his son?”

“Like a bastard son or something?”

“Yeah, probably.”

Peter gathered his books, put them into his backpack and left the room without a second look at the two guys who were so openly talking about him. Douchebags. If they really wanted to know what the hell he had to do with the (in)famous Tony Stark why couldn’t they just ask?

Peter walked the cold corridors to his next lesson – biology, ugh. The program was scheduled to start with photosynthesis and come on, really? What were they, five?

As he walked by, a lot of heads turned to stare at him. Apparently, the rumour of Tony picking him up at school had spread far and wide and now everybody knew it, everybody couldn’t help but wonder what kind of relation linked them. Of course, they had no idea of Peter’s past, or of the incident that had seen him bitten by that stupid spider – and how could they? And Tony showing up outside the school gates had of course raised questions and incredulity – not that Peter had expected any less, but still.

During his biology class he kept on listening to his classmates’ whispers about how Tony Stark had had a son with some poor woman he’d seduced and abandoned, that seemed to be his style after all; some even went as far as to say his mother had died and now Stark had to take care of him willingly or not.

Peter tried to shut their voices out of his mind and focus on the lesson instead, but the first were too pressing and the latter too boring, and he ended up counting down the minutes that separated him from the end of class that day.

It was only his second day and things were already going so great.

It seemed like an eternity or two had passed when the bell finally rang, freeing him from that torture, and Peter jumped on his feet as quickly as he could, running out in the school yard and then past the gate where Steve was standing by a motorcycle at the opposite side of the road.

Peter sighed in relief when he saw him there, and ran into his open arms with urgency and need. Steve hugged him tight and Peter had never been happier to be hugged in his whole life as he let him pat his head and ruffle his hair a little.

“Hey, kid,” Steve said with his calm voice, taking him by the shoulders and pushing him backwards a little as to be able to take a good look at him. “Been a while, uh?”

“Yeah,” Peter nodded with a relieved smile. “Been a while.”

He didn’t tell Steve he’d missed him. He didn’t even tell him how the tower had fallen into silence after he’d left, and sure as hell he didn’t tell him how Tony had so drastically changed, panic attacks and all. Peter suspected Steve knew – well, at least about Tony, they had known each other for a while now, and Steve wasn’t one not to pay attention to people.

Peter wanted to tell him of Tony’s red eyes circled in dark shadows, he wanted to because maybe Steve was the only one who could actually do something about it, put Tony back together, help him back to his old, annoying self.

Tony, oh, he tried to hide stuff from him; he spent days in that lab of his, and nights, and Peter didn’t like the dark shadows that veiled his eyes now. Tony was – well, he was trying. He was trying hard not to show how much of a wreck he was, not to neglect him or make him feel alone; he tried and Peter knew it was costing him a lot, it was a big effort he had to make on his account, and he was grateful for that, but it had to stop. Tony had to stop pretending everything was alright because it clearly wasn’t, and admitting there was a problem was the first step to finding a solution, wasn’t it?

“I got you something,” Steve said, eyes sparkly with excitement as he turned to his bike and took something. A helmet, painted in blue and red, that he handed to Peter with a smile.

“I don’t drive cars,” he said with a shrug. “So, yeah. This is yours, keep it so you’ll be ready whenever I’ll take you for a ride.”

Peter turned the helmet over in his hands, staring at it, impressed by the colours Steve had chosen to paint it. He wondered whether Tony had ever showed him his old suit, after having confiscated it to stop him from running away – he doubted, Tony didn’t strike him as the type to disclose secrets that weren’t his in the first place. True, Peter had told Steve about the incident himself, but he’d never mentioned the suit. Maybe it was just a coincidence, but those colours seemed to resemble Steve and Tony terribly. Tony was, after all, Iron Man; his suit was read, a few of his cars were red, a lot of things in the tower were red. The man just liked the colour, probably.

And blue, well, blue reminded Peter of Steve’s eyes – and of Captain America’s suit, too, and maybe _that_ wasn’t just a coincidence.

Peter had thought about it, during the time Steve had lived with them in the tower; he’d thought about the faint resemblance between him and the face behind Captain America’s mask, and of course he’d wondered about how Tony and Steve had met in the first place. Their relationship was more than just a friendship; it was pure complicity, getting each other with no words needed, knowing what passed in the other’s head with but a look. They just seemed like a perfectly functioning organism, whenever they were making dinner or organizing their day, they just – worked.

“Thanks,” Peter said, looking back at him. “I, er. It’s amazing. Thanks.”

Steve nodded briefly, but his smile was still in place when he jumped on his bike and waited for Peter to do the same. Peter put the helmet on, secured the backpack on his shoulders and buckled the lace around his waist, then put his arms around Steve’s and the bike roared beneath them. The roar transmuted into a softer purring as they hurtled through the traffic, speeding through cars lined in endless queues.

Peter felt the wind roaring in his ears and its scream right on his face as Steve drove expertly, reaching the speed limits and never crossing them. It felt liberating and the wind on his face tasted like freedom while New York shaped and changed all around them, buildings leaving place to greener areas and such; Peter smiled happily and held Steve tighter, adrenaline pumping high in his system. That bike was incredible, seriously, how could Tony not love it? Sure, bikes were far more dangerous than cars, but Steve wasn’t a hothead, he knew how to drive without crashing against something, and Peter loved the way his blood started pumping fast in his veins thanks to the adrenaline high in his system.

The ride lasted less than he would have liked though, and Steve called the bike to a halt not twenty minutes later, in a quiet street not far from the lights and noises of downtown Manhattan. Steve waited until he’d gotten off the bike to do the same, then secured it and the helmets before leading Peter into what looked like an old-fashioned diner. The floor was chequered, black and white tassels to make him feel like it was the Fifties again, and the huge juke-box pushed against the farther wall strengthened the feeling. Peter liked it, the old fashion touch was new and unexpected, so different from the super technological and advanced apartment he shared with Tony at the tower. It was a nice change.

Steve waved his hand at a man behind the counter, who Peter supposed to be the owner, and led him through the tables until he found one he seemed to like, in a corner of the room; they sat down and Steve handed him a menu, studying one himself.

“Do you like it?” Steve asked, eyes gazing to the menu and to him, and Peter nodded.

“Yeah, it’s nice,” he said with a grin. “Old fashioned and all. I wonder how Tony would like it, him being this weird progress freak and all.”

Steve laughed at that, but his eyes were heavy.

“He likes it alright,” he said, voice morbid with memories. “He made a bit of a fuss when I first brought him here, but he came to appreciate the atmosphere. We came back a few times, actually.”

Peter stared at him as Steve shook his head and focused back on the menu, but his mind wasn’t in it; he was a thousand miles away from there, lost in a moment that belonged to the past, eyes looking at something Peter couldn’t see.

Steve too didn’t look great, Peter noticed as he kept stealing a glance at him from time to time; he looked tired, his skin pale and wrinkled by the lack of proper rest. The blue of his eyes was a little less blue, if ever such thing could be, and he looked a little sad as well. Which was stupid, and didn’t make sense really, because what was the point of all that? What was the point of Tony being a wreck, and Steve being a wreck, when things could have just been different?

Adults were weird, Peter decided the same moment he set his mind on what he was going to order for dinner; they were a little stupid, and didn’t talk to each other the way they should have. Adults were proud and stubborn, and would rather endure a life of misery than admit they needed something, or someone.

He had no idea of why Steve had left, not really – of course, the going back to work thing wasn’t entirely true, was it? Tony had just said it as to sort of justifying Steve to him, maybe. Still, things had been different lately, and Peter didn’t like it much because it was _stupid_. Tony having panic attacks was stupid, it didn’t matter it wasn’t his first time; Peter knew it had to do with Steve, it was _obvious_ , and Tony wouldn’t even talk to the man to sort things out. Dumbass.

If only they’d talked, Peter thought with a hint of frustration, things could have gone back to normal and those two would’ve stopped looking so damn down all the freaking time.

“Can I ask you something?”

Peter waited for the waitress to leave with their orders and held Steve’s gaze without even blinking, expression serious, almost solemn. Steve nodded, pitching forward on the table and giving him his full attention.

“Sure you can. What is it?”

Peter took a deep breath, and for a moment he wondered if meddling with someone else’s business wasn’t going to be worse than just leaving things follow their natural course.

Then again, it was Tony, and Tony wasn’t a normal human being to whom natural rules applied.

“Do you love him? And please, try to be honest this time. I mean, if you don’t wanna answer I’ll get it, it’s okay, but –“

“I don’t,” Steve said quietly but resolutely, and Peter held his breath, preparing for a crash that didn’t come. “I don’t just love him. I am _in love_ with him.”

“Then why did you leave?”

Steve stared right into his eyes before letting his fall on his hands, intertwined on the table. He sighed; a little, almost audible sigh that carried a sense of desperation Peter had only found in Tony’s eyes, and when he opened his mouth words wouldn’t come out. Steve tried again but Peter could see how hard it was for him, trying to shape those feelings he now had a name for. He wondered whether Tony had come to name them too, or maybe he was just too scared to do so.

“My job –“ Steve said, then paused for a moment. “My job isn’t easy, Pete. Nor is my boss. I have been ordered to remain in DC until further notice, and I don’t like it but I _have to_. I can’t just disobey a direct order. Tony, well.”

Steve sighed again and swallowed the feelings blocking his throat. His voice was a little hoarse when he spoke again, his eyes veiled with guilt.

“Tony wouldn’t, er,” he said, coughing a little. “He wouldn’t have that. He didn’t like the idea, and reacted the only way he knew. We fought, said things we didn’t mean, or maybe meant too much.”

“Did he kick you out?”

“No, Pete, he didn’t,” Steve shook his head. “He asked me to stay, or not to come back again for a while. Tony, he… he deals with things his own way, and I get it. It’s just – well, complicated.”

“Things don’t have to be complicated, you know,” Peter said matter-of-factly. “Letting things complicate is the easy way out, if you ask me. Try and make an effort to make them go the right way, that’s the real deal.”

Steve looked at him like he had never before, head tilted on a side and a curious sparkle in his eyes; it was as if he was seeing him for the first time, or at least that was what it felt like.

“You might be right on this one, Pete,” Steve let out in a low voice. “Anyway, there’s not much that can be done as of now. We’ll see how it goes.”

“He misses you too, you know,” Peter blurted out, then lowered his eyes on the table. He knew it wasn’t up to him to say so, but Tony was so stupidly proud he would have never told Steve what he was truly thinking. And, well, Peter couldn’t just let him screw his life like that, could he? Tony was better than he himself believed, and didn’t deserve to suffer for his own stupidity.

“Pete –“

“I know it’s none of my business,” he cut Steve out quickly. “I know. But… it’s just – he misses you, I know he does. He doesn’t say it, but he does. Where do you think all those panic attacks come from?”

“God, Pete, would –“

“I’m not trying to make you feel guilty about leaving us,” Peter added, more quietly now. “I just. I don’t know, I just think you need to know this.”

Steve opened his mouth to reply but the waitress bringing them their orders stopped him and he fell silent again, thanking the girl with a shaky smile. Once she’d gone, Steve stared at his food for a while, playing with the fries absent-mindedly.

“It _is_ my fault he’s not okay,” Steve whispered. “It is, and no matter how hard I want to try and fix things between us, he won’t let me. Not now, at least. Tony needs time to come to terms with things, Peter, and I can’t impose myself on him, not even if being with him is what I want the most.”

“So you’ll just let him –“

“I’ll just give him the time and space he needs,” Steve corrected him, and his eyes softened a little. “I’ll be here when he’ll be ready. Now eat your food before it gets cold.”

Peter thought of replying but bit his tongue before he had the chance to. He trusted Steve enough to believe what he’d just said was true, he knew he wouldn’t do anything to make things worse with Tony. What Steve didn’t know, or more likely was incline to forget, was that Tony was fundamentally an asshole who had no idea of how to deal with things or himself, for what mattered; he was too proud to admit, to himself and to the world, he needed Steve more than he’d thought possible. And Steve was too good, too understanding to do something about the whole thing and turn the situation around.

Peter sighed. He didn’t like them to be apart, they were nothing but broken shells of their true selves and it was driving him mad to think they were going to just leave things that way. Damn, didn’t they realize how happy they were when around each other? Didn’t they remember how good it’d felt spending time together doing nothing and just enjoying each other?

Adults were dumbs, and those two were the worst.


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It was on a lazy Sunday morning, right after having poured himself a second (or third?) cup of coffee, Tony realized how much Peter meant to him.
> 
> The realization came in the form of a slow, sleepy thought, fogged by his still not a hundred per cent operative brain; he saw Peter coming down for breakfast and handed him his usual bowl of milk and cereals without even thinking of it, the gesture being a routine by now, and he realized he didn’t want his life to be any different. He’d had trouble accepting Peter’s presence at first, but now the kid was just part of his life and Tony couldn’t even imagine of what he would be without him.
> 
> Worse, he couldn’t even think of Fury taking him away from him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know it's been a long wait, but I trust you guys will forgive me (a little) after reading this chapter.  
> No specific notes for this one, except maybe the nth Doctor Who reference (K9, we miss you).  
> And, I guess that's all. I hope you're holding on in there, and I promise things are going to get better soon :)

The bike came to a halt in front of the main entrance to the Stark Tower, lightened up in all its splendour.

Steve looked up for a moment, up to the upper floor of the building where he knew the apartments were, and he thought he saw a light on in the kitchen. Then again, it was too up high for him to be sure, and he dismissed the thought with a shake of his head.

“I missed spending time together,” he said as soon as both him and Peter got off the bike. “Thank you for coming to dinner with me, Pete. We can do it again any time you want.”

“Yeah, well.” Peter cleared his throat where the words ‘ _I missed it too_ ’ were stuck, then swallowed them down. “I’d like that.”

Steve smiled at him and stepped forward, arms wide open. Peter was maybe a little stiff when Steve hugged him, but exhaled lowly and relaxed not a moment later, leaning his head against his chest.

“I will always be here for you, kid,” Steve murmured to his ear. “I want you to remember that, okay?”

Peter nodded briefly and pulled away from him, the so familiar grin taking back its righteous place on his face.

“See you soon, I guess,” he said, and he looked at his brand new helmet before turning his back on Steve and walking towards the automatic doors at the other side of the square.

“Hey, Pete?”

Peter turned, and Steve held his breath for a moment.

“Tell –“ he said, and breathed in. “Tell him I say hi?”

Steve relaxed when Peter smirked and signalled him with a thumb-up before walking away and disappearing inside the building.

For a moment memories of the days he’d spent at the tower came back, hitting him hard and leaving him breathless; all the mornings he’d made breakfast, all the evenings they’d spent on the couch in front of a movie, when the tower echoed with quiet and silence. He missed the feeling of Tony’s body curled up against his own in bed, his constant, solid presence in his life, like a lighthouse at night to help him go through the waved dangerous waters of life.

Steve missed him so bad it hurt, and he just couldn’t breathe now because Tony was pushing him away every day more, turning him down, learning to live a life without him. Steve hoped he could, hoped Tony could manage to go on with his life and forget that his absence had ever hurt him, he hoped Tony could do so for both of them because he couldn’t. At least one of them _had_ to be happy, Steve thought with a sad smile, and Tony deserved that happiness the most.

 

*

 

When Peter had come home after his dinner with Steve, Tony had asked him how it’d gone only to see his eyes shine bright and the kid had told him all about the helmet, and the diner, and Steve.

Tony had made a face when Peter had mentioned the helmet, he had never liked motorcycles much and the idea of Steve riding one drove him mad with anxiety, but it was none of his business in the first place so he’d kept quiet. He had listened to Peter babbling about how nice it had been to see Steve again, and if his heart had ached Tony sure hadn’t shown; instead, he’d smiled and nodded and told Peter how glad he was he’d enjoyed his night out.

Peter had gone to bed soon after, a smile still stretching his lips, and Tony had crashed on the couch in the lounge, too tired to do anything else. He’d thought about Steve, about how badly Peter needed him in his life, and if that was going to deprive _him_  of his sleep, well, that wasn’t anything Peter had to know about.

 

*

 

The first week of school had flown so fast Tony had no idea how it’d happened. He had been busy with his work, finally managing to invent something new again, and he still felt a little lonely whenever Peter wasn’t around, but things were getting better.

Peter seemed to like school alright; he still thought the study program was a little _too_ easy, but didn’t complain and actually enjoyed spending his days at the institute. Tony knew he’d made at least a friend or two there, but when he told him to invite them over at the tower Peter would dismiss the question with a wave of his hand. Teenagers.

The weekends were what Tony loved the most though; Peter would sometimes go out with Steve, riding that death-trap of his and coming back always at decent hours at night, and when Rogers wasn’t involved and Tony had Peter all to himself he drove him around New York, visiting museums or going to the movies together. They spent all of their time together during the weekends, and Tony savoured every moment he would get.

It was on a lazy Sunday morning, right after having poured himself a second (or third?) cup of coffee, Tony realized how much Peter meant to him.

The realization came in the form of a slow, sleepy thought, fogged by his still not a hundred per cent operative brain; he saw Peter coming down for breakfast and handed him his usual bowl of milk and cereals without even thinking of it, the gesture being a routine by now, and he realized he didn’t want his life to be any different. He’d had trouble accepting Peter’s presence at first, but now the kid was just part of his life and Tony couldn’t even imagine of what he would be without him.

Worse, he couldn’t even think of Fury taking him away from him.

 

*

 

Tony didn’t like Sundays much when Peter was away. He would just hide in his lab, pretending to be working but actually just laying down on the couch instead, Dum-E whirring around him like a needy metal dog. Maybe he should have put together a metal dog, Tony thought absently, Peter might have liked it. Pity that the name K9 was already taken.

_Sir, young Peter is coming upstairs._

Tony opened his eyes and jumped on his feet, electrified by the news. He checked his wristwatch and noticed it was only seven in the afternoon – which meant he was going to spend the night with the kid, maybe eating some pizza in front of one of those trash action movies Pete liked so much. Maybe his Sunday didn’t suck too much, after all.

Tony smiled and put his half empty cup of coffee on a desk, walking fast to reach the elevator. Peter had left the tower early in the morning, going away with Steve for the day – who was probably gonna take him out on doing amazing stuff as playing soccer at the park or, or teaching him how to drive the bike and all, and the thought gave Tony a heart attack.

_Captain Rogers is coming up too, sir. Thought you might needed to know._

“What did you say, JARVIS?”

Tony stepped into the elevator and pressed the button, going up immediately after.

“Has something happened? Is Pete hurt?” he asked almost frantically, and it was legit for him to be wanting more information. Steve hadn’t come back to the tower in a long time now, not after Tony had made it perfectly clear there was no need for him to if he wasn’t ready to stay – and Steve, well, he had kept his distance.

A surge of anger caught him at that thought, not at all unexpectedly; it had been a while, but it felt like it had been only a day or two and it still hurt like hell. Tony was grateful the panic attacks didn’t come as often now, but every time he thought of Steve something would burn inside of him, setting his whole body into flames.

_Peter looks perfectly fine, sir. I don’t think he’s hurt. He’s laughing with the Captain, at the moment._

“Then why is Rogers here?” Tony mumbled to himself, but apparently JARVIS didn’t understand an answer wasn’t required and replied instead, with his super British and posh accent that drove Tony mad sometimes.

_I believe young Peter invited him in for a refreshing drink, sir. Do you want me to tell the Captain he is not welcomed?_

For a moment, Tony wanted to say yes to that. He didn’t know if he was ready to see Steve again, not when his heart would stop and ache in his chest at the mere thought of his blue eyes; he didn’t know if he was ready to talk to him again, even if just to say hello or goodbye. Steve’s absence was tangible in his life, and Tony felt broken in half now, incomplete, which drove him crazy because, fuck, he was Tony Stark, he didn’t need others to feel whole.

Still, the _thing_ moving in his chest and guts seemed to prove him wrong, bothering him day and night, never leaving him alone because it was fun, Tony supposed, to torment him like that.

“No, JARVIS, it’s okay.”

Tony took a deep, deep breath and exhaled slowly, looking at his reflection in the mirror only to find a feeble shadow of the man he once was. His eyes were dull, only alive when Peter was there to fill his days and his life; the shadows around them were lighter but still present, and his mouth seemed to be naturally turning downwards in a sad pose.

It was different when Peter was there, because Tony was way too busy taking care of him to think all those heavy thoughts that took his sleep away. It was different because Peter was sparkling with life, enthusiastic about everything, and his happiness and _joie de vivre_ were so contagious Tony couldn’t stop smiling, and laughing, and feeling as if he could walk on air.

When the elevator doors opened to the lounge, Tony saw Steve and Peter talking by the couch. Peter looked as happy as he ever had, eyes wide and bright, a big smile stretching his lips; he seemed to radiate positive energy and happiness, even, his whole body relaxed and at ease.

Steve looked the best Tony had ever seen him. Lose and tranquil, his expression serene; he seemed surrounded by a sense of bliss and calmness Tony had never perceived in him. His eyes were as blue as ever, filled with a fondness that rooted deep inside of him – and it was all because of Peter. The kid had infiltrate Tony’s life and changed it drastically, but he’d done the same to Steve, too. Tony shivered at the thought, and he knew Steve too thanked whatever God there was every day for Peter’s presence in his life.

It was just – it felt _right_ , having Peter around, trying hard to teach him something good, to teach him how to deal with a world that was scary and mad, but could also be beautiful and interesting if only one knew where to look. The need to protect him from whatever harm may come felt right, and natural, and Tony had never experienced anything so selfless before, so unconditional and vast that wasn’t easy to describe. Words weren’t enough, would have never been enough to explain how much he had started to care about the kid, how Peter’s happiness and wellbeing were now everything Tony could think of, day and night.

“Tony?”

Tony noticed Peter was now walking towards him – young, and happy, and beautiful – while Steve fixed his eyes on him but stayed still, barely breathing.

“Hey, kid,” Tony smiled and ruffled Peter’s hair affectionately. “Didn’t know you were gonna be back so soon.”

“Yeah, well, I wanted to show Steve something,” Peter said, smirking. “You know, your little _good luck with school_ gift.”

“Oh. So you… you told him about –“

“Yes,” Peter said quietly, and his expression was serious now. “I thought… I mean, he knew the rest anyway, so I just wanted to – to –“

“To come out of the closet, yeah, I get it.”

Tony blessed him with a smile and barely refrained himself from pulling him in for a hug. Both him and Steve knew about Peter’s radioactive incident and they had tried so hard to make the kid understand there was nothing wrong with him; Tony was still trying, every single day of his life, and probably so was Steve. The suit though was something no one knew about, something Tony had discovered only by accident when Peter had tried to escape his custody, on his very first day at the tower. He doubted even Fury knew about it, and even if he did he wouldn’t know about the modifications and improvements Tony had made to it.

And Peter cared about Steve more than he’d say, so yes, Tony could understand why he didn’t want to keep anything from him. You don’t keep secrets with the ones you love, not when they can help you carry the weight of those, and Peter’s suit was way too heavy for his young shoulders to carry alone.

Tony absently wondered if Steve had ever told Peter about his other identity, about the reason that had brought him away from them and prevented his come back. He doubted it, for Steve had always wanted to keep Cap a secret and preserve his own privacy, keeping those two lives as separate and distant as he could. Steve didn’t love to be Captain America, and there had been times Tony had wondered whether he even _liked_ it; he was still just a kid from Brooklyn with the will of doing the right thing, no manias of grandeur and all.

It had to be so frustrating though, living two lives that were just the same and trying so hard to keep them apart when there was no need for that. Tony had refused to do the same the very first time he’d worn the iron suit; he was proud of who he was, proud of being able to do something good for a world that sometimes didn’t even deserve it. Iron Man was an inseparable part of him without which he wouldn’t be the man he was. How could someone refuse a part of themselves the way Steve was?

“I’ll go get it, be right back.”

Peter disappeared behind the door that led to the corridors, and Tony felt an insufferable sense of coldness fall upon him. So, there they were.

“Er, hello, Tony.”

“Rogers.”

Steve held his breath when Tony called him by his last name, sighing lightly a moment later. He wrung his hands in an unconscious display of discomfort only to abruptly stop when he realised what he was doing; he looked down at his feet, then around at the so familiar room and back at him, shyly.

“Peter asked me to come up,” he said with an apologetic tone. “I told him it was maybe better if I didn’t, but he was so –“

“Happy,” Tony finished for him with a sigh. “Yeah, he gets that excited sometimes.”

He took another deep breath and let it out as slow as he could. He could do this, he could stay in the same room as Steve and talk to him like the reasonable adult he was; his heart still ached a little and maybe his guts felt heavily twisted, but he could do it.

Tony knew they had to meet again, sooner or later. They were both Avengers after all, and it was very likely Fury would call for them to reassemble their little group of weird superheroes; it had to happen, it was only a matter of time, and maybe seeing Steve now was okay, so that Tony would spare himself the trouble of seeing him for the first time again in a potentially dangerous and deathful situation.

It was okay, it was, he could stay there and look at Steve and ignore the pain; he could keep on breathing like he’d always done, it was natural and automatic, nothing to worry about. Tony could ignore the feeling of oppression that was hiding somewhere in his mind, lurking, waiting. He had to do it, and not only because it was gonna happen anyway.

He had to do it for Peter, because the kid loved Steve so much and Tony didn’t want to do anything to undermine his newfound happiness, not after all he had done to help Peter out of a pit of darkness and sorrow.

“Tony, I’m really sorry about this, I –“

“It’s okay, Steven, it isn’t like we can’t stay in the same room without starting to fight,” Tony cut him off. “We’re adults. We can do better than that.”

Steve stared at him, silently, and Tony vaguely noticed he looked a little surprised.

“I’m going to get some coffee,” Tony said. “Can I get you anything?”

“Just water, if you don’t mind. Thank you.”

Tony nodded and hurried to the kitchen, reaching the coffee machine and holding onto it as if it was a life preserver that would keep him floating in deep waters. He put the grounded coffee and activated the machine, inhaling when the aroma of the fresh made beverage surrounded him.

He poured a cup of coffee, then filled a glass with icy cold water for Steve, because he didn’t like it lukewarm, and maybe his knees were shaking lightly but Tony was still standing, still walking with his back straightened and it was okay, Steve being only a few feet from him was okay. The hole he had left in Tony’s life felt a little less deep now, a little less wide, and Tony hated it because of course everything felt better if only Steve was around, but it didn’t have to be like that. He couldn’t be needing Steve’s presence so badly, he couldn’t, and he couldn’t admit to himself that he did because Steve wasn’t going to be a part of his life and Tony had to just keep going by himself now.

“Here.”

Tony handed Steve his glass of water and if Steve’s fingers brushed against his giving him a little shock, Tony didn’t show. He went to sit down on the couch, as far away from Steve as possible, and watched with soft eyes as Peter entered the room with his new suit folded in his hands.

“So, uhm,” Peter said, a little embarrassed maybe. “This is it. I had made a suit a while ago, but Tony’s is so much better, and he even bettered the web-firing systems so that the webs come out quicker and smoother. Even the web’s compound is a little different, more resistant than the one I had made myself.”

Tony observed as Peter approached Steve and explained in details how the mechanisms worked, how he had first thought of the suit and how he had spent weeks working on it; Peter told him all about the experiments he had done in order to find a compound strong enough to hold onto things, but light enough as to resemble a spider’s web and he looked so excited, so happy to share all of that with Steve that Tony couldn’t help but smile at him.

It made him angry to think that Peter had never had the chance to talk about his abilities before, to think his only family had died without even knowing what had happened to him, without having the possibility of telling him it was okay to be special, and different. Tony knew that would have made a huge difference in Peter’s life, and he knew he had had troubles accepting his new condition because there had been no one there for him to tell him he didn’t have to be scared of it.

But of course Steve had done everything in his power to help him out, help him accept what he had become, and now he had this proud look in his eyes that made Tony melt a little as he took the suit in his hands and examined it closely. Tony was always going to melt while looking at Steve and Peter together, wasn’t he? It was just so incredible, and so sweet to see them side-by-side, intent in conversations he wasn’t even listening to, and it felt painfully right, hurting like a bitch when he remembered that it wasn’t going to last.

“Er, Tony?”

“Yep, what’s up?”

Peter was facing him with what Tony recognised as plea in his eyes; he looked a little guilty maybe, and a little sad, and a little hopeful too, which made all of Tony’s alarms ring in his head.

“I was thinking… er, can Steve stay for a little while longer?” Peter looked directly into his eyes and did something with his mouth, twisting it lightly to hide the tremble. “It’s almost dinner time, maybe he could eat something with us before going?”

“Pete, no, I think –“

“Yeah, sure. Okay.”

Steve turned to look at Tony with a confused expression on his face, taken aback by his words.

“Tony –“

“Pete, go order some pizza,” Tony said, ignoring Steve’s attempt to complain or get them out of that uncomfortable situation. “Or Italian, order some Italian if you want. Whatever you like. I’ll go set the table.”

Peter’s lips opened in a beaming smile and he took his suit back from Steve’s hands, hurrying out of the room as he shouted for JARVIS attention. Tony heard him running down the corridors, probably heading to his room to put the suit away, and his smile cracked a little when he found himself alone with Steve again.

“Tony, look, I don’t –“

“This isn’t about you, Steven,” Tony cut him off abruptly. “Or me. It’s about Peter; he wants you here tonight, so you’ll stay for dinner. Doesn’t seem too complicated.”

Steve deflated like an air balloon and didn’t reply. He looked a lot more uncomfortable than Tony was showing, and yeah, of course it wasn’t easy, but they could make a little effort for Peter, couldn’t they?

“Meet me in the kitchen when Peter comes back.”

Tony turned his back on Steve and walked away, heart beating furiously in his chest. As he started putting plates and cutlery on the table, Tony could feel Steve in the other room, still on his feet and probably looking around, waiting for Pete. Which was weird, and crazy, the fact Tony could perceive Steve without even the need of _seeing_ him, but it had always been that way. Tony had always felt Steve’s presence more than anyone else’s, felt him even when they weren’t near each other; Steve had always been there next to him, physically and not, since they had started getting along – but now he wasn’t, and Tony hated himself for the ability he had of feeling him close when he didn’t have to.

He vaguely registered Peter joining Steve in the lounge, vaguely heard them talking; Peter was openly laughing, engaging Steve in conversation and distracting him from his thoughts.

_Delivery will be here in ten, sir._

“Thank you, JARVIS.”

Tony put the last fork on the table and rummaged the cupboards for something to drink. He found a bottle of red wine, one of Pepper’s favourites if he wasn’t mistaken, and opened it as soon as he picked a corkscrew from one of the drawers. He poured himself a generous glass and swallowed half of it in one sip, refilling it and filling a second glass as well. Steve couldn’t get drunk of course, because of the serum making his metabolism burning twice as fast as everyone else’s, but he did enjoy a good wine from time to time.

Pizza required beer, Tony thought absent-mindedly, but beer wasn’t enough for him now, he needed something a little stronger. Yeah, wine was definitely a good choice.

“Hey, pizza will be here soon. Need any help in here?”

Peter entered the kitchen, Steve right on his heels. He was almost jumping everywhere, moving frantically around the place and bumping into things and furniture from time to time.

“Hey, kiddo, stop that, you’ll get yourself some bad bruises.”

Peter smirked at him and showed him his tongue, something he knew was going to annoy Tony a little.

“I heal fast, ol’ man,” he grinned. “I could get beaten up all day, every day, and still be in amazing conditions by the end of the week.”

“Let’s not put that to the test,” Steve warned him, voice steady and authoritarian. “Now, go wash your hands, we’ll be ready soon.”

Tony passed him the glass of wine and lifted his own in a silent toast that he mirrored, then drank it up quickly, smiling at the way Steve would talk to Peter, exactly like he used to do when he lived with them; it almost felt like nothing had changed and they were just having another dinner together, bickering and laughing and drinking. It was like Steve had never left, their habits were unchanged and everything was as it should have been.

Only, that wasn’t true. Things had changed, and Steve wasn’t part of their daily routine anymore. He was a guest in the tower, just stopping by for a quick visit, nothing more than that.

Tony thought of what all of that meant to Peter. He was a grown up, he knew that tonight was only an exception, but the kid? Did Peter understand that the dinner was a one-off, not to be repeated again soon? Did he understand that one dinner wasn’t going to change things, to bring Steve back?

Damn, Peter _did_ think he could make the tables turn by trying to have him and Steve together for the duration of the meal. He did think they could just solve all of their problems as easily as that, it was an attempt from him to push them in that direction. Just like any kid his age would have done in a situation like that, Tony thought. Peter wasn’t doing anything bad, he just – he _cared_ for them to solve their issues, he cared to have them both back as they were. All the three of them, in fact.

As a family.

 

*

 

“Guys, I guess I’ll go crashing in my room. I’m spent.”

Pete jumped on his feet and smiled at the two of them; he walked to Steve and awkwardly patted him on the back, looking a little bit grateful when Steve got up and pulled him in for a proper hug.

“Take care, Pete. I’ll see you soon.”

“Yeah.” Peter nodded with a smirk, then briefly turned to Tony. “Meet you at breakfast, ol’ man.”

“’Night, Pete. I’ll have JARVIS wake you up.”

“As usual.”

Steve couldn’t help but notice the look Peter and Tony exchanged – confident, easy, full of complicity and unspoken words; he couldn’t not notice the way Peter’s lips curled up in the shadow of a timid smile, or how Tony’s eyes seemed to sparkle every time he’d look at him. This wasn’t the Peter Steve had first met or, well, it was, but at the same time the kid had changed so fast that it was almost disorienting to look at him now. Peter was calmer now, he smiled a lot more, and laughed more; his eyes were if not completely, at least a little freed from the terrible things that had turned his life upside down, and he looked more and more like any normal teenager these days.

Peter was recovering, and he only could because of Tony.

Tony had been there for him from the start, when Fury had just forced them to live together and Steve himself had had no idea of what the situation was actually like. Tony had accepted Peter in his house and in his life, and he’d been the only one not to be scared of him; Tony had looked past the dangerous and angry behaviour, had seen what was behind and he’d tried hard to make that little part of Peter come out, fighting day by day to help him do so. Tony had always been there for the kid, and he _cared_ about him like Steve had never seen him caring for anyone before. They were… well, friends, and maybe Tony was to Peter the fatherly figure the kid had never had.

“I’ll help you out with the cleaning,” Steve said, breaking the silence that had fallen upon them like a scythe. Tony waved his hand at him, preventing him from doing anything, and maybe his eyes were a little lucid with alcohol.

“Nonsense. I’ll ask Rosita to take care of it tomorrow.”

“Alright, then.”

Steve nodded and let out a little sigh. So that was it, end of the dinner. Tony didn’t seem to want him around now that Peter wasn’t there, and maybe he was a little disappointed when Tony jumped on his feet and started walking towards the door, maybe he had hoped they could at least talk but, well.

“I guess I’ll go, now,” Steve said, and he tried to keep his voice steady and calm, but Tony knew him better than that, he was going to notice the disgruntlement in his tone anyway.

Tony stood still not far from him and said nothing. He was looking at him with a weird expression on his face, some mix of indecision and sadness that made Steve’s heart squeeze in his chest; Tony stood there and the world seemed to stop turning for a moment, giving Steve the time to impress in his memory as many details of him as he could – the line of his mouth, those little wrinkles around his eyes, the light behind his eyes, the way Tony was torturing his lower lip. Steve wanted to remember everything, picture Tony in his mind so perfectly that he could see him again every time he felt the need to and Tony wasn’t going to be there; he wanted to remember him like he was now, silent and a little hesitant, expectant or maybe just scared of what his next move was going to be.

“Do –“ Steve tried to say, but his voice broke and words wouldn’t come out anymore so he cleared his throat and tried again. “Do you think we’ll ever be able to talk about this?”

Tony’s breath came out short, as broken as Steve’s voice was, and maybe his eyes showed the littlest hint of panic but it was gone in a moment, replaced by an insecurity so deep and overwhelming Steve felt his heart stop in his chest.

“You know I will never talk about it unless you force me, Steven,” Tony said tiredly, rubbing his eyes with his hands and sighing lightly.

“Do you want me to?”

Steve stared at him and waited. He waited for Tony to pull his hands away from his eyes and look back at him, he waited for Tony to look directly into his eyes and tell him the truth. Steve didn’t want anything more than the truth, as simple as that, the rest wasn’t important now. He wanted, _needed_ to know whether there was the slightest chance they could do this, talk and work things out like they never had before. And it was new, and scary, but what they shared was too damn _everything_ to let it go to waste like that – and it sure wasn’t over, or at least not completely. There was always going to be a little sparkle alive inside of them, waiting for the right moment to burn bright again unless… unless Tony decided he’d had enough and put the sparkle off with just one blow.

Then, Tony looked up and it took Steve’s breath away.

“I do, Steven,” he said in a low, shaky voice. “I do want you to force my hand here, but I’m just not sure I can respond to that. I’m not sure I can deal with this, because we both know how it ends and there’s no way we’re gonna come out winning. I’m not sure I’m ready to face the fact that this, you and me, is not gonna work. And I wish, oh, I wish there was some greater entity here that pulled the strings, I wish there was a destiny lay for us that would just keep us together – but there isn’t, and I don’t know if I can stand that.”

“Tony –“

Steve outstretched his hand only to retreat it a moment later. Tony wasn’t ready to talk, he wasn’t ready to be touched and he had every right to. What he’d just said was… true, and it hurt, it physically hurt, because there was no way they could know things were gonna be alright in the end, there was no promise of better times for them, of a better future. It was complicated, a mess of intertwined lives that knotted and knotted, and Steve had no idea if he was strong enough to untie all those knots and make things go the way he wanted them to.

But he had to try. He had to, because letting things complicate was the easy way out, and he was willing to fight to preserve what burned inside of him and Tony, what linked them together with a thread that wasn’t easy to cut.

“I love you,” Steve said, and it was so simple, really. “I am in love with you, and it drives me mad to see you hurt and suffering like this. I _hate_ it, Tony. I hate being away from you, and I can’t breathe because I know you’re pushing me away, erecting back the walls it took us so long to tear down. I don’t want us going back to what it was before, I _can’t_ do that, I – “

Steve paused, taking a deep breath and passing a hand through his hair. It was so damn hard to say what he wanted to, to translate everything he was feeling into words Tony could understand.

“I don’t wanna let you go, Tony,” he said. “But I will, if this is what you truly want. I will turn my back, walk away and never come back. You will never hear from me again, I’ll be just… just a shadow reflecting on a mirror. A ghost. Or maybe not even that, maybe you’ll just erase me from your memory and it will be like none of this has never happened.”

Steve stepped forward, slowly, carefully, under Tony’s attentive gaze.

“Say one word and I’ll go,” he talked on, and moved another step. “But I beg you not to. This is the easy way out, Tony, and I don’t want to take it. If there’s still something left, even just a littlest grain of what you have felt for me – don’t let it go. Hold onto it, Tony; keep it close, and safe, and I promise you, I will do anything to help it grow again. At least I’ll try, that’s all I’m asking for. Let me try, Tony, let _us_ try.”

“Steve, I –“

“You are everything,” Steve cut him off as he moved another step. “You are everything I have, everything I need, everything I will ever want. You will still be my everything even if you push me away for good, I can’t change that. I don’t _want to_ change that.”

Steve stopped, standing only a couple of steps from Tony now and he waited. Now Tony knew, knew all the things Steve had never told him, and it was all in his shaky hands – their next step, their future, them, and Steve’s heart ached and his stomach felt like it was weighing a ton while doubts and insecurities and fear were taking their grip on him. He was scared, he was _terrified_ of what Tony was going to say, of what he was going to do, to them and to whatever thing they might build together. He had never been this scared in his whole life, not even when he’d put the jet into the glaciers of his own free will. That was nothing compared to what was waiting for him now.

Tony was just going to decide the course of his entire life from that moment on, and Steve was scared.

And Tony, oh, Tony was as scared as he was, Steve could see it in his eyes. He was afraid to say anything because whatever he was going to say was the ultimate decision, one more chance or a definitive closure, and really, were they ready for this? Were they ready to the possibility of not seeing each other ever again? Were they truly ready to let it all go and move on?

Steve knew he wasn’t. He didn’t want to, he wanted to fight tooth and nail to keep Tony in his life, or he wasn’t going to have a life anymore. If Tony wasn’t there, what would be left for him to do?

“I don’t want to let you go either, Steven. But we cannot know how things will go from here, can we? Let’s just…”

Steve’s heart jumped in his throat and it was hard now to breathe. The moment had come, and he wasn’t ready.

“Go home, Steve,” Tony said with a sigh. “Or, or not, I don’t want you to drive this late at nigh. You still have a room here, stay for the night and go back to DC tomorrow. We’ll talk about this again, we, uh. Let’s just… let’s see what happens.”

Steve gave him a small, almost non-existent smile and a barely perceivable nod. It was so much more than he had expected, and even if Tony wasn’t telling him it was okay for them to try again and bring things back to what they were before, well, at least it was something. At least Tony wasn’t shutting him out completely, there was a door left ajar and he was ready to open it, in time.

He could do that, spend the night and go back and wait. He could.

“Alright. Good night, Tony.”

Steve walked towards the familiar corridors that led to his room, and he didn’t tell Tony he was already _home_.

 

*

 

Tony hadn’t expected to find Steve still there in the morning, and this time his absence didn’t come as a surprise.

He hadn’t slept a wink the night before, thoughts streaming in his head and the unconscious feeling of Steve’s body asleep not far from him; he hadn’t slept but it was okay, he didn’t feel the wreck he was getting used to, and when he opened the curtains in his room and got invested by New York’s bright new dawn Tony smiled. It was a beautiful day.

 

*

 

“Nice to see you, Rogers. We had thought you’d gone AWOL. Fury’s a little pissed.”

Steve got off the bike and took off his helmet, turning to look at Natasha standing right beside him. That woman was as silent as a cat and sneaked up on you when you least expected it. Super spy and all.

“Needed a little time off, Nat,” he said, and maybe he was smiling a little. “Fury will cope.”

“Eventually, yes,” she smirked. “But first he’ll kick your star-spangled ass.”

Steve nodded imperceptibly to her words, he knew she was right. He had taken off the day before without even informing the Director of his leave, disobeying a direct order and vanishing into thin air for a full day. He had no idea what had gotten into him, or if he had been thinking at all when he’d just jumped on his bike and disappeared. Things were going alright there in DC, the new Avengers’ training was getting them better results than they’d ever hoped for and Fury was extremely pleased with his work. Everything was just fine, it was, but all those small satisfactions in his daily life just turned into dust every time he thought about Peter.

He missed him. Steve missed the kid way more than he could have at first expected; he missed his smiles, and his grins, and the way he talked about things he loved, fast and sprightly – just like Tony did. Steve missed Peter, and he missed Tony like hell, and all the beauties he had always found in everything seemed dull and grey if those two weren’t with him.

“You went to see them, didn’t you?”

Steve startled a little at the question and his heart became heavy in his chest at the thought of what he had just left behind.

“I did,” he said quietly. “I needed to.”

Natasha nodded, but kept silent. If ever she was judging him for what he had done, she didn’t show and instead she kept walking by his side, a morbid and friendly presence he needed more than he was eager to admit.

“I talked to Tony,” Steve let out. “Peter insisted for having dinner together, and we, uh. We kind of talked.”

“Kind of?”

She raised her eyebrow at him and Steve shrugged lightly, taking a turn left and heading towards the common room in the facility.

“We’ll talk again,” he simply replied.

“Will you?”

“Yeah,” Steve nodded. “I think we will.”

“You know I’m not the best person around to give any advice on these matters,” Natasha said slowly, eyes fixed on him heavy with emotions Steve had never seen in them. “But let me tell you this. You need them, Steve. And this is not gonna change. You’ll never stop needing them. But Tony was right when he told you he can’t have it like this, you’re either there or you’re not. So just… pick a side, Cap.”

“Not you too, Nat, I –“

Natasha stopped in the corridor and it took Steve a couple of seconds to realise so; he turned and walked a couple of steps back as to face her, and wasn’t surprised to find in her eyes the friend he cared about instead of the skilled spy who was such a great ally in battle.

“Steve, I’m gonna tell you once, so you better listen up,” she said, staring right into his eyes. “You’ve been a wreck since you left New York. Don’t give me that look, you know it’s true. You’re not you, Steve, and I hate this. I hate watching you in this state, and believe me when I say Tony isn’t that much better. So you do something about it, Rogers, or I swear I’ll kick your ass until the end of our days.”

Natasha lowered her voice and touched his arm lightly, the look in her eyes softening and changing.

“You can’t give up to the people who make you happy just because you feel like you have to follow orders,” she said softly. “Director will shout for a while; damn, he’ll be pissed at you, but he can’t take your happiness away, and he knows that. Deep down. Deep, deep down.”

“You have rights to live your life,” she continued. “You, most of us all.”

Steve looked back at her and said nothing, words stuck in his throat and heart heavier in his chest. She was right, and Tony was right, damn, even Pete was right – he should’ve just seen it before. If he had just listened to Tony, if he had just stayed instead of running away… he wouldn’t be in this mess now; he’d be with Tony and Pete, at the tower, right where he belonged.

When he’d left, that morning, he had thought of following orders, yes, but there had been something more moving him, maybe, than he’d understood. Truth was, he’d been scared, scared of what all of that meant, scared that the perfect bubble of happiness he and Tony had built wasn’t going to last. Oh, he’d been so stupid to give in to fear, to let it ruin everything he, and Tony, and Peter were slowly working for.

“It’s not up to me anymore,” Steve let out in a low sigh. “Tony needs some time, and I get it. I broke him, Nat, and I hate myself every day for that. All I can do now is wait, and hope.”

“No, Steve. All you can do now is hope, and fight.”

He gave her a small, grateful and maybe a little shaky smile, but it was enough.

 

*

 

It took Tony a little while to realise the hole in his chest was slowly and silently filling up. He was so busy that he just wouldn’t notice – he had to take Pete to school, he had his work to keep him in his lab for all the hours Pete wasn’t home, even a few meetings to attend – and one day, one dull, boring Monday morning he just stopped with a cup of coffee in his hand and, well, he couldn’t feel that oppressing lack of something moving in his chest anymore.

Tony looked out at the clear New York sky and smiled.

 

*

 

Steve called almost every day now, talking to Peter for hours and distracting the kid from his homework – but Tony wouldn’t find it in his heart to complain. Peter pressed the phone hard against his earlobe and smiled, and talked, investing Steve with streams of words and babblings that would probably leave him stunned and a little confused. But it was okay.

Steve called almost every night now, and Tony would just tell him of what he’d done during the day, how he’d helped Pete with school essays and such; he would tell him about board meetings, and Pepper threatening him to make sure he would go.

Steve kept listening to him for as long as he could, the night slowly fading away before their tired eyes, and he too would tell him things – about the young Avengers’ trainings and how Natasha was actually enjoying it, about Clint looking all scary in front of the kids who actually fell for his act just because they didn’t know squat about him. And Tony would laugh, cuddled up in his bed while the radio clock ticked-tacked the night away.

“You know, you should come over for the fourth of July,” Tony said one night or another, a whiskey in his hand and a little smile on his face. “Pete would love it if you did. Bring the superspies with you, it’ll be fun.”

And Steve laughed and said that yeah, okay, why not, of course it was going to be fun, he would have loved to celebrate all together, maybe with a barbecue on the rooftop or something. Tony smiled, and he felt Steve smiling despite the fact he couldn’t actually see him and it was okay.

 

*

 

“I invited Steve to come over next week,” Tony said one Saturday morning. “Thought you’d like to celebrate the forth of July together.”

Peter looked up from his breakfast and in his eyes Tony could see a joy so great it made him smile, too.

“For real?”

“Yeah, kid. For real.”

Peter gave him an amazed look and his eyes shone bright in the morning light, and the hole in Tony’s chest filled up a little more.

“Natasha and Clint are gonna come over, too,” Tony continued as he deprived Peter of his second cup of coffee that morning. “You’ve met Natasha, of course, and I am positive you’re gonna like Clint a lot. He’s a funny little fella, when he’s in the right mood.”

“Is he an Avenger, too?”

“I probably shouldn’t tell you that, but you’re gonna find out anyway, so… yes, Pete, he’s an Avenger. Hawkeye, to be precise, even if he’ll always be Birdbrain to me. Or Legolas, I like Legolas a lot. He hates that.”

Peter let out a little joyful laugh that warmed up Tony’s heart in a blink and nodded.

“Er, you’d probably like to know that it’s gonna be Steve’s birthday, too,” Tony continued. “I mean, forth of July. It’s his birthday. Thought you might like to get him a little something.”

“Can I?” Peter asked, and he looked a little surprised by Tony’s suggestion. “I’d like to. Ehm, we could get him a cake or something.”

“Cake would be wonderful, kid. Lemon meringue is his favourite, in case you were wondering. Order it yourself and have it delivered here on the fourth, I’ll take care of the bill.”

“Thanks, ol’ man.”

Tony hid his smile behind his coffee and just nodded.

“Now off you go, write down that biology essay and if it’s good enough I’ll take you out later, deal?”

Peter grumbled a little, annoyed by the mere thought of doing his homework, but Tony saw the corner of his lips twitch upwards and he playfully smacked the back of his head, gaining an offended look in return that made him laugh out loud.

“The sooner you’re done, the sooner we go out, kiddo,” he shouted as Peter left him alone in the kitchen and disappeared behind the door.

Tony sat down on his chair again and savoured his coffee in blissful silence while New York sparkled alive before his eyes. It was a beautiful summer day, hot but not too much, and the air smelled of trees and flowers outside; it was, in fact, the perfect day to go to the park and just enjoy the warmth of the sun on one’s body, cuddling and delicate as an embrace.

It was only a few days ‘til the fourth, Tony thought as he looked through the glass windows, so that left him with not much time to organise the perfect day for Pete to enjoy. He had to contact the catering, or it was maybe better to put up a nice barbeque on the rooftop, by the pool. Yeah, that was a great idea. He needed drinks, refreshments of any sorts – alcoholic ones, and plenty of that, since Clint and Nat were gonna be there as well, those two were terrifying when it came down to drinking. Peter was gonna take care of the cake, so that was one less thing left for him to do, and what else? Fireworks, of course, they were gonna need fireworks to lit up the sky above them.

Tony took his StarkPhone and quickly typed a text message he sent to Clint and Natasha both ( _Fourth of July. BBQ by the pool on the rooftop. Bring your stupid butt here. See you then_ ); then he thought of giving Pepper a call, because he wanted her to be there too and besides, Peter loved her, so even better.

He thought of giving Steve a call, too, just to inform him of how the planning was going, and for the very first time Tony didn’t feel that surge of pain slicing his heart. He still missed Steve, that was quite obvious really, but it was okay, _he_ was okay.

 

*

 

“Look, I think I found it,” Peter shouted as he ran into the lab without even knocking, and seriously, who had given him permission to walk in there by himself? Tony smelled serious protocols overrides, and didn’t like it much.

“I know it’s not much but, er, I had no idea of what else to get him, so…”

Tony put his blueprints and one on scale model of a new suit aside and turned on his stool to meet Peter’s insecure gaze. He gestured him to come closer and the kid did, handing him a bag with something huge but light inside. Tony carefully extracted the gift from the extemporary case and looked at it, amazed.

It was a sketchbook, one of those that would need to be put on a stand to be used properly, and the cover shone with star-spangled beauty. There was also a brand new set of brushes in the bag, and a little note Tony did not unfold.

“Damn, Pete,” he said in a low voice. “I don’t think you could have found anything better than this. He’ll love it. It’s a little… well, patriotic, but he for sure will appreciate that.”

“Yeah?” Peter asked, expectancy in his eyes, and when Tony nodded he smiled a wide smile that made his eyes look greener.

“Well, I bet it’s a good match to his uniform,” he said as he grinned at him. “Or his shield, for what matters.”

“What – how did you – did he –“

“Tell me?” Peter asked, visibly amused by Tony’s lack of words and sassy replies. “Nope, he didn’t. It was just a theory I had, theory you just confirmed. Thanks, ol’ man. Appreciated.”

“You little son of a –“ Tony said, but refrained himself from finishing the sentence. “You can’t tell anyone, okay? Steve doesn’t like people to know about it, and I find it stupid, but it’s his choice. Damn, if he knew I told you he’d probably kill me.”

“Relax,” Peter interrupted, taking the gift back from his hands. “You didn’t technically tell me anything. It was a hunch. His secret is safe with me.”

Tony nodded.

“Good.”

Peter gave him a pat on the back and ran away, doors opening to let him pass undisturbed and really, Tony had to check with JARVIS about that. The kid was way too smart for his age, and he better not tell Steve he’d found out his little secret. Tony was pretty sure Steve was going to tell him himself, one day or another; he seemed to love and trust Peter as if he was his own blood, and Tony could understand that. He felt just the same.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> …I hope you're feeling a little better after this. 
> 
> As a child with divorced parents, I can assure you Peter's attempt to bring them together for dinner is totally reliable. Kids tend to fantasize, and they turn a dinner into an opportunity for some (sometimes impossible) reconciliation.  
> …he's just lucky in this case things didn't end up too bad. 
> 
>  
> 
> Also, bonus chapter coming out on July 4th, so keep an eye out :)
> 
> Feedback and comments always appreciated, and thank you all, you guys are amazing.
> 
> xx  
> C


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tony returned his look with an equally ardent one and come on, wasn’t it obvious? He was still in love with him. He was always going to be in love with him. Time would pass, and seasons would follow one another, and years would draw deeper wrinkles on his face, but he was never, ever going not to be in love with him. It was just – it was inside of him, Tony knew it; a sparkle that burned so high and strong to make everything else look dim and faint in comparison, and now that he wasn’t so scared from it he could see it clearly. It was there, it was always going to be there, and it made him feel good, a better man, even. He needed that sparkle, even if he maybe couldn’t have Steve.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> First things first, happy 4th of July to all of you American guys out there! Wish I could visit and enjoy the fireworks someday. Meantime, I am with y'all in spirit. 
> 
> So… little heads-up: Avengers Assemble! 
> 
> Also, porn. You're welcome <3

The Avengers assembled on the roof of their tower around eleven in the morning, that Fourth of July (it was Stark Tower, actually, but they had all come to consider it home, so it wasn’t just Tony’s, not anymore, no point in denying that).

Bruce got there first and Tony hugged him tight, happy to see him after all that time. Bruce hugged him back and smiled, and asked how he was doing, and he stretched out his hand for Peter to shake, telling him how happy he was to finally meet him, Tony had told him a lot about him already. Peter smiled and engaged in small talk with him, amazed when Tony told him all about Bruce’s work, and he even timidly asked about his incident with gamma rays. Bruce laughed to his faltering expression and told him it was okay to ask, everybody kind of knew that, so he briefly told him what Peter craved to know.

Natasha and Clint arrived not twenty minutes later, and Tony welcomed them with arms wide open. He didn’t go as far as to hug them, they would have probably killed him there and then with their bare hands, but he patted them on the back and told them how glad he was to meet again. He wasn’t lying, and in their eyes he saw his feelings mirrored.

Natasha said hello to Peter with the hint of a smile and Pete stared at her for a second or two, bewitched by her striking beauty, making her smile stretch a little wider while Clint patted him on the shoulder with a smirk.

“So, you’re the kid,” he told him, smirk still in its place. “How’s daddy doing, has he driven you mad yet? He totally does that, trust me. He’s an obnoxious asshole, sometimes.”

“You’re the asshole, Birdbrain,” Tony shouted from the bar where he was starting to make some cocktails, and Clint barked a laugh that seemed to scratch Peter’s throat, too.

“See? Asshole.”

Peter laughed and kept on talking to Clint, walking around the pool to get one of those drinks Tony was preparing. Tony served Clint a Cuba Libre, making one for himself and Bruce as well, while he handed Peter a soda and Natasha a classier Martini.

Everything was perfect, really. The Avengers were back where they kind of belonged, together again, while New York blessed them all with a hot, beautiful day and a fantastically clear sky; some music was playing in the background, coming out from an audio implant Tony had asked JARVIS to connect to the outside circuits, and it all felt just… well, right. If only, there was only a little thing missing to make the picture complete, and it walked up the roof almost thirty minutes later, eyes shining and smile bright as he walked to Peter and hugged him shamelessly, unconcerned by the looks they were getting.

Tony couldn’t hide a smile, and he couldn’t give a damn if Clint was going to make fun of him forever for that, seeing Pete with Steve was one of the most beautiful things in the world and he just loved it, the way Peter would light up and Steve would smile that private smile of his, it was pure perfection.

He stared at him as Steve started greeting their companions, happy to see them again, and if his eyes gazed to Tony most of the time, well, nobody said anything about it (they noticed, of course they noticed; they just had the decency to shut up and keep their sarcastic comments to themselves).

Tony felt a little lighter when Steve timidly approached him, last but not least, and he welcomed him with the offering of a drink Steve accepted gladly. They stared at each other for a moment, and Tony could look into his eyes and feel _good_ , good about himself, and Steve, and the world on a more generic level. He stared at Steve, who was blushing a little in front of him, and he felt like that was the happiest moment of his life.

“Nice to see you, Rogers,” Tony said, and maybe his voice was a little unsteady, but that could have been easily imputed to the alcohol already streaming in his system.

“Nice to see you too, Tony.”

They didn’t talk much, and not only because Peter came running to them, ready to chat Steve up until leaving him senseless probably. Tony laughed a little as Peter practically dragged Steve around to show him how they had set the roof for the day – deckchairs by the pool, and a few richly decorated lampposts to light up at night, and all the white, red and blue decorations he had put up himself. And Steve followed him, looking amazed by all the effort Peter had put in the task, asking him questions Tony couldn’t hear.

“Looks like they get along well.”

Tony’s smile didn’t even falter as he felt Bruce’s reassuring presence by his side, and when he turned to look at him he found Bruce was smiling a little, too.

“They get along great, Bruce,” he said. “I would think them father and son, if I didn’t know better.”

“You know, that’s what I first thought when I saw _you_ and Peter together,” Bruce chuckled, and maybe Tony’s heart grew a little warmer in his chest. “Kid looks a lot like you. Same sarcasm.”

“You’re saying he’s a little smartass?” Tony asked with a grin that Bruce returned. “Because that’s absolutely the case.”

They laughed together, and the laughter slowly faded off into a comfortable silence. Tony looked around at the very top floor of his beautiful creation, and for the first time since the Avengers had lived there he found it echoing with chatters and laughs; the tower itself felt alive with ecstatic noises and voices to be heard everywhere, and Tony loved it. Shame Pepper couldn’t join them on such a beautiful day, she was going to miss out on all the fun.

And okay, maybe Tony was a little drunk by the time he went to take care of the barbeque, and maybe Clint had to help him a little but he was drunk too, so they made a mess anyway but it was fun, it felt like the real deal, all of it. Steve’s eyes never abandoned him, never let him go for a second and Tony could feel his gaze caressing his skin, maybe judging him a little because, come on, he was drunk in front of Peter, that wasn’t good at all – what Steve didn’t know, or maybe had just forgotten, was that Pete was a little son of a bitch who made fun of him, of _them_ , every single day, and he was enjoying Tony’s drunkenness an awful lot, secretly taking pictures to blackmail him with later.

They all ate, and swam, and Natasha smiled a lot every time she talked to Peter and Pete would look at her like he hadn’t seen anything this beautiful before (and well, okay, she was incredibly hot, Tony had to give her that); Clint and Pete became the best of friends before lunchtime, and looked like they were up to no good for the rest of the afternoon, not actually doing anything just because of the murderous looks Natasha glanced them from time to time.

Bruce enjoyed the playful and relaxed atmosphere, sharing a drink or two with Tony and refusing to talk science with him on that festive day, and Steve laughed a lot, and reprimanded Clint a little, and maybe gravitated around Tony just like he always had, and when the sun set beyond the horizon painting the sky in red and lavender Steve maybe looked for Tony to have someone to admire the fireworks with. They sat close to each other as the sky exploded with colours and sparkles above them, and when Peter joined them, taking possession of half of both their deckchairs, they laughed and smacked his head, even if their hands lingered on his shoulders for a little while. Peter leaned back and Tony had to put the chairs close together as not to have him fall off, and Peter lay down right in between him and Steve, staring at the splendid fireworks with eyes wide open in amazement.

Of course, Clint had to come over and ruin that little moment of peace and calm, but Tony couldn’t possibly be mad at him now; he was with Steve and Peter, everything else seemed of no importance, and maybe it wasn’t.

“Yo, Pete, you think your daddies will let you come with me for a midnight swim?” Clint asked with a smirk, and if Steve’s ears reddened a little, Tony’s grin seemed to compensate.

Peter tried to hold back a laugh and failed miserably, giving the two of them an affectionate look and a pat on the arm before jumping on his feet to follow the Hawk.

“Pops and Dad are alright with it, smartass,” he said, and Tony felt a little proud of the way he would hold his ground, treating Clint with his own sassiness.

Tony shook his head as he watched them run to the pool, and yelled something like _“No running near the pool, you idiots, or you’ll slip and break your stupid necks!”,_ to which Steve added some more polite request to please listen to what he’d just said, and maybe Tony felt a little like the parent he biologically wasn’t.

While Peter tried to put down Clint by drowning him to Natasha’s amusement, Tony lay back on his chair, arms behind his head, and looked up at the night sky where fireworks mixed up with the light of shining stars. Steve sighed a little beside him, and Tony turned his head to face him only to see him staring at Peter with an apprehensive look in his eyes; he chuckled under his breath and touched Steve’s hand lightly as to get his attention and distract him from a scenario that was going to give him if not a heart-attack, at least a very bad headache.

“Nat is there to make sure everything’s alright, Rogers,” Tony whispered as Steve looked at him with worried eyes. “And Clint is not _that_ stupid. Come on, let’s enjoy the fireworks until they last.”

Steve nodded, and maybe shifted a little closer to him, and if Tony shifted a little closer to him as well nobody else noticed. They lay there in silence, eyes to the sky, breathing slowly and deeply, enjoying that sense of peace surrounding them despite the screams and laughs of the others by the pool.

Tony took a deep breath and exhaled, and just a few seconds before the clock tick-tacked midnight he turned to Steve with a soft smile and whispered, “Happy birthday,” only to watch Steve smile back.

“Didn’t think you’d remember.”

“’course I did, Rogers,” Tony said softly. “Don’t tell him I told you so, but Pete has got you a little something. Well, he’d ordered a cake as well, but, uhm, he thought he wanted to celebrate privately.”

“Did he?” Steve asked and even his eyes were smiling. Tony nodded, a little short of words, or maybe just bewitched by the beauty of Steve’s eyes.

“Yeah,” he said. “Why don’t you, uhm. Why don’t you stay here for the night so he can give you your present first thing tomorrow? Well, I guess the others are gonna stay as well but you can, er, share our floor, as usual. It’ll be just the three of us in the morning.”

Steve’s eyes looked a little shinier, and Tony thought that it wasn’t fair for Steve to wet them with joyful tears, it didn’t do any good to him and definitely not to his poor little heart, which was now drumming in his chest.

“I would love to, Tony. Thank you.”

“Sure,” Tony nodded and then, maybe because of the alcohol or just because he felt a little bolder, he added, “And I believe I owe you a talk.”

Steve looked taken aback by his words but put himself together in no time, and he too nodded, if maybe a little uncertainly. They hadn’t had the talk they were supposed to in favour of stupid small talks over the phone, and even if Tony wasn’t too eager to go through it again, he knew he owed Steve at the very least. So, yeah, talk.

“I owe you one as well,” Steve murmured. “How about we combine it with a goodnight drink, later?”

Tony smiled a little, feeling lighter already, and he nodded.

“Sounds great, Cap.”

 

*

 

The Avengers took possession of their floors respectively two hours past midnight, just as Tony had predicted. They had all just silently walked inside and to their rooms, as simple as that, as if they were just used to do so – well, they _were_ a little, weren’t they? They had lived together before, shared many nights up on the roof, gone to sleep with just a gaze to wish each other goodnight. It was familiar, and comfortable.

Peter had fallen asleep on one of the chairs outside, legs resting in weird angles, arms all over his face, and of course Steve had to pick him up and carry him to bed. As he always had.

Tony walked with him to Peter’s room, staring at him as he put the kid in his bed, then tucked him in himself, for he was a little used to it and he kind of liked doing it every night. He whispered Peter goodnight and watched as Steve ruffled his hair softly, smiling at him; Tony bit his lips to hide a smile but failed spectacularly, and he led Steve out of the room with a fond look in his eyes.

“He likes you so very much,” he muttered as they walked to the lounge together. “I know he doesn’t tell, because he might be a little constipated emotionally, but he shows a lot. You mean the world to him, Steven.”

“Well, he means the world to me.”

Steve said so with such an intensity in his eyes, such ardour that made Tony’s knees turn into jelly, mostly to the words Steve wasn’t saying and were in fact hiding in plain sight for Tony to see. _You mean the world to me_.

Tony returned his look with an equally ardent one and come on, wasn’t it obvious? He was still in love with him. He was always going to be in love with him. Time would pass, and seasons would follow one another, and years would draw deeper wrinkles on his face, but he was never, ever going _not to be in love_ with him. It was just – it was inside of him, Tony knew it; a sparkle that burned so high and strong to make everything else look dim and faint in comparison, and now that he wasn’t so scared from it he could see it clearly. It was there, it was always going to be there, and it made him feel good, a better man, even. He needed that sparkle, even if he maybe couldn’t have Steve.

“I know,” Tony let out, almost whispering, and maybe he hid behind the bar counter with the excuse of making the two of them the goodnight drink Steve had suggested earlier that night. Maybe he hid there because he now truly knew what he wanted, knew what he was ready to sacrifice to get it, and it was maybe a little scary because he could see in Steve’s eyes the same determination to fight, not to let go easily. Tony had been so scared of the compromises he was going to undergo to make it all work, scared that if he wouldn’t get things exactly the way he wanted them maybe it wasn’t going to work out, wasn’t worth fighting for.

But it was. _Steve_ was, and Tony had been such an asshole, really, ready to let it all go south because he couldn’t take a compromise or two.

“Here, whiskey on the rocks,” he said as he handed Steve his drink and sat down on the couch, right in his favourite spot, and it wasn’t any surprise to him when Steve sat down next to him, right where he always had.

They sat there in silence for a while, each thinking of _what_ to say, _how_ to say it, and it felt like the hardest thing in the world to open their mouth and let it all out – only, it wasn’t, Tony was pretty sure it really wasn’t. It was actually easy to just say the words out loud, what wasn’t as easy was to predict the kind of reaction that would’ve followed.

“Steven –“

“Tony –“ Steve cut him off, and Tony shut up. “Just… let me go first, okay?”

Tony swallowed the whiskey and nodded slightly, drawn by the intense look in Steve’s eyes.

“I, uh,” Steve mumbled, then cleared his throat and looked up at him. “I have been an idiot, Tony. I have always thought following orders was my mission, and I still think it partially true, but… I’ve walked out on you. I’ve walked out on everything we had. And I’ve been an idiot, not to say worse. I just –“

“You just thought Fury had told you to go back for a reason,” Tony finished for him. “I know. I _get_ it, Steve. And it pains me to admit, but I got it the very first second I saw you ready with your bag packed.”

Steve lowered his gaze and shook his head, rubbing his eyes with his hands, whiskey forgotten together with Tony’s on the coffee table before them. His voice was husky when he spoke again, and Tony felt the immediate need to put his arms around him and tell him _it was okay_.

“I gave it all up because of what I thought was right,” Steve said. “Truth is, I was wrong, Tony. I should have never left like that, I should have never – I got scared. I never told you that, but I was terrified of what it all meant, and following orders was maybe the easiest way to – but I was wrong.”

“You were, a little,” Tony conceded with the hint of a smile. “But I get it, okay? You had to, because you’re this incredible man that would put someone else’s interests before his own, and _I get it_.”

Steve covered his eyes now, and he looked so broken Tony felt like he was going to break too by only looking at him. He hated to see him like that – fragile, beaten, sore – and he wanted to do something, anything to make him better. He wanted to fix him, if ever Steve was going to let him.

“I should’ve put _yours_ ,” Steve said, and when he fixed his gaze into his eyes Tony felt short of breath for a moment. “ _You_ are what matters to me, Tony. You and Pete, and I won’t let anything or anyone else put themselves in the way, _ever again_. And I don’t care how long it’ll take me to get you back, but I swear to God I will, I won’t let you go again, and –“

Tony kissed him. It was awkward, and sloppy, and definitely unexpected but he just kept his lips on Steve’s and pressed hard, violating them with his tongue until Steve opened his mouth to him and Tony kissed him so hard it felt like he was kissing the life out of him.

He felt dizzy, drunken with the feeling of Steve’s tongue against his, and it was so liberating, it was like taking a deep, deep breath after being underwater for so long as to feel on the verge of suffocating. It was electrifying, giving Tony little shocks everywhere in his body, and so damn exciting.

Steve was all hot against him, hands finding the base of Tony’s neck and pulling him in further, vibrating in the contact, and when he slowly pushed Tony backwards on the couch he didn’t complain. He needed this, needed this so badly, just like he needed air to breathe and live, and when Steve lay down on him Tony just spread his legs a little to make him room in between them, and the friction made him moan loudly in the kiss.

“I miss you,” Steve half-whispered, half-moaned as he pressed himself harder on him, and Tony tilted his head back violently, hitting the armrest hard. “I miss you so much it hurts, and I don’t wanna miss you like this. I don’t want to feel like I’m drowning all the time, Tony, I –“

“I need you,” Tony said and he kissed him again, rough and desperate, engaging his legs around Steve’s waist. “I need you, and I can’t change that. And if it means I’ll have to share you with Fury, so be it. Well – no, wait, that didn’t come out right, I meant –”

Steve shut him up with another frantic kiss, and when he lowered his hands to meet the zip to his jeans Tony’s hips jerked up almost involuntarily; he relaxed again on the couch when Steve’s hand closed around his pulsing dick and groaned when Steve took him in his mouth. Oh, God. He wanted to die like this, with Steve cuddled up in between his legs, his dick in his mouth, that was an absolutely perfect way to go, and Tony felt all of his muscles tense while a soft warmth built up in his lower body.

“Steve – don’t –“

He gently pushed Steve back a little, and Steve freed his erection with a little disappointment he tried to keep to himself but his eyes betrayed. Tony jerked his head backwards and damn, he wanted this, he wanted this badly, but they were on the couch and Peter could have walked in at any moment, and –

“Tony, I’m going to fuck you now,” Steve said with an authoritarian voice that gave Tony shivers down his body, and really, that was a little kinky but damn, he liked it.

“Pete –“

“Pete is fast asleep,” Steve said as he kissed him again, rough and needy, and when he pretty much manhandled him to pull him up Tony didn’t oppose resistance at all, falling ungraciously on Steve’s lap not a moment later and oh, God, Steve was so hard against him.

“Fuck.”

“That’s the idea, yeah.”

Tony laughed, exposing his throat for Steve to attack immediately with teeth and tongue, and shivered when Steve’s hands ran to his butt cheeks and infiltrated them easily, finding his hole and penetrating it with two dry fingers. Dammit.

“Steve – fuck, lube. I need lube.”

Steve looked a little worried, but Tony shook his head as to tell him it was nothing, just – he needed something, or it was gonna hurt like hell. He got up quickly and walked half-naked to the kitchen; his room was way too far to reach now, so he just opened the cupboards and found a small jar of olive oil that was definitely gonna serve the purpose. He walked back to the couch where Steve was still sitting, half spread on the morbid cushions, stumbling in his own jeans as they slowly slid down his legs and he kicked them off completely, shoes flying to the floor and jeans following immediately. Boxers, too.

Steve stared at him, so intensely Tony felt like his gaze would perforate his skin and reach all of what was inside of him, every feeling, every damn emotion, and it was scary, but also terribly exciting, thinking that there was someone who could _see_ so deep inside him and still wanting to be there no matter what.

Tony sat on him, falling on Steve’s lap with a little dull thud and damn, was Steve hard and ready. Tony handed the jar to Steve, who opened it quickly and let some of the viscous, bright green oil on his fingers and Tony had to bite his lips hard not to let out a little scream when Steve penetrated him in one flowing motion. It felt good, it felt amazing, Steve’s fingers massaging him in little circles, twisting inside of him, scissoring lightly, and Tony moved his hips up and down to meet them, eager and hungry for more. Steve’s eyes were fixed on him and Tony felt exposed, but it was okay – he had always been exposed in front of Steve, like a nerve ready to hurt like hell if only touched. Steve had never touched that nerve, never pushed, never done anything to cause him harm, not directly, and his eyes were dark now, and full of emotions Tony felt turning fast in his own chest.

He kissed him, hard and frantic, putting his hands on Steve’s shoulders, grabbing him and holding onto him for dear life and Steve, oh, Steve pulled him closer with the hand that wasn’t inside of him, nails deep in his skin and it hurt a little, but it was a good kind of pain, one that made him feel alive.

“Steve – now. Please, now, or I –“

“Shush, it’s okay.”

Steve’s voice was low and calm despite he was breathing heavily, soothing, and Tony nodded, feeling so terribly empty when Steve retreated his fingers from him and unbuckled his own belt. Tony wanted to help him undoing his zip, he really wanted to, but his brain wasn’t working properly and his hands were shaking badly, and Steve seemed to have the situation under control after all so he just moved a little when he felt Steve sliding down his own jeans and pants, caressing his hard dick with the hand still sticky with oil.

Steve got inside of him in one careful move, lips on his and hands on his hips, and it hurt a little but it was bearable, it was okay, and Tony felt complete again. He felt whole.

Steve started fucking him slowly, carefully as if he was scared of breaking him, and Tony meet his thrusts with a little more energy, silently telling him he needed more. Steve took a deep breath as he pushed harder, hips jerking up; he grabbed his bare hips so tight it hurt and Tony tilted his head backwards, arching his back and pushing his body down fast and deep to find the right angle, and when he closed his eyes fireworks exploded behind them in a confusing burst of light and colours. Steve placed wet kisses on his throat, biting the pulsing jugular lightly and soothing the sore skin with his tongue, hands caressing his half-naked body, and Tony felt hot, so hot he couldn’t breathe. His skin burst into flame where Steve’s fingers had touched it, and felt icy cold when he broke the contact, and when Steve slowed down the rhythm of his thrusts Tony felt like he was gonna die. It was quiet, and deep, and fulfilling, and he was starting to sweat and grit his teeth when he felt the orgasm build up inside of him.

Tony whispered Steve’s name once, twice, thrice, as a mantra that kept him anchored to reality, and Steve kissed him with a passion he had never shown before; he kissed him as if not doing so was going to deprive him of oxygen, as if that was the only thing that kept him breathing and Tony felt _fucking important_. He felt like he was the very centre of Steve’s world, like he was what really mattered, and the thought made his heart jump in his chest, beating so furiously he could hear it in his own ears, and it was a little scary being so much, meaning so much to Steve; it scared the hell out of him because he didn’t want to do anything wrong, to disappoint him _ever_ , but that was gonna happen – he was a bit of a disappointment, wasn’t he? Steve knew it, he did, and maybe he didn’t care too much, and it was reassuring.

“Steve, I’m –“

Tony planted his knees hard on the couch at Steve’s sides, pushing himself down hard so that Steve’s dick reached the deepest point inside him and, god, it gave him shivers and little shocks at the same time while Steve arched his back beneath him, but never let go. Tony came hard on his and Steve’s shirt, making a terrible mess but not really caring much, while Steve came inside of him with a low groan.

Tony collapsed on him and stayed there, head resting against Steve’s shoulder and arms around him, breathing heavily while traces of the devastating orgasm slowly faded off leaving him tired and a little sleepy. Steve kept on lightly caressing him with his big, delicate hands and it took Tony a while before he found the strength to move again, getting away from Steve only to pick up his underwear and put it on despite the stickiness; he walked as far as to the bookcase where he opened the last drawer on the left, pulling out a blanket big enough for two and stumbled back to the sofa where Steve was still catching his breath. Tony slowly dressed him and lay next to him, putting the blanket over them and cuddling up to the warmth of his body.

Steve smiled sheepishly as he pulled him in closer, arms firmly holding him, and he kissed him softly before sleep started closing his eyes.

“I love you.”

Tony smiled and nuzzled his neck, placing a gentle kiss right under his ear.

“I love you too.”

 

*

 

“Seriously? On the couch?”

Tony opened one eye to peep out at Clint, who was passing through the lounge with a stupid grin painted on his stupid face.

“Fuck off, Barton.”

“Yeah, right. Gonna make breakfast, and coffee. Come if you want some.”

Tony turned over, legs in between Steve’s, and yawned loudly, cuddling up with the sleeping beauty beside him. It was too early for breakfast – not for coffee, though. It was never too early for coffee.

“Oh, look at this,” he heard Peter’s voice mocking. “Dad and Pops sleeping together. Cute. You guys up for breakfast?”

“Shut up, brat.”

Tony covered his eyes and thanked his sleepy self from last night for having had the decency and foreseeing to put his and Steve’s clothes back on, the common area was getting quite crowded.

He didn’t realise Steve was awake until he turned to look at him and found him staring, his eyes beautiful like the ocean on a calm summer day, and Tony’s brain short-circuited for a moment, leaving him speechless and completely dumb.

“’Morning, you.”

“’Morning.”

They kissed. And kissed again, and smiled like schoolboys, and ignored Peter’s rambling about how _sweet_ that looked, and Clint’s mockery, and Natasha’s sigh of despair when she walked in only to find out coffee wasn’t ready yet. They kissed and the world around them vanished into thin air, leaving them alone and cut out from it. And Steve, oh, Steve looked so beautiful, and so relaxed, and Tony felt his heart melt at the sight, brain refusing to work decently due to cuteness overload. He felt a little stupid – no, he felt _immensely_ stupid, but he didn’t care much, really.

“Hey, Pops, I’ve got something for you,” Peter said as he jumped on the couch next to Steve, making Tony jump a little too. “Wanna see it now or after breakfast?”

“Now is good, kid,” Steve said in a sleepy voice, and the smile on Peter lips was the brightest Tony had never seen so far.

“Cool. I’ll go get it.”

Peter jumped off the couch and ran out the room, and maybe Tony shook his head a little ‘cause the kid was a hurricane of energy that never seemed to ware off and running like that wasn’t any good, really. Then, Tony stopped and stared at the point where Peter had disappeared while his brain processed what had just happened. _Pops._ The kid had called Steve Pops, and damn, wasn’t that fucking adorable.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this chapter is shorter than the others, but I really wanted to give you something to celebrate Steve's birthday.  
> Hope you liked it :)
> 
> Thank you all for your feedback, kudos, and comments, you guys make my day.  
> C.


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> They spent the day together and Tony had never felt this good before, relaxed and, well, happy, surrounded by the two persons that meant the world to him. They had lunch, and went for a walk, and had dinner, and watched a movie just like the old days, and when Pete fell asleep on the couch Steve took him in his arms and the kid looked so small there, so tiny; Tony followed them to the room, opened the door for Steve and asked JARVIS for some dim light. When Steve lay Peter down, Tony was the one who tucked him in and he placed a soft kiss on his forehead, wishing him goodnight.
> 
> He didn’t expect for Peter to reply – sleepily, he probably wasn’t even completely awake.
> 
> Goodnight, Dad.
> 
> Tony had no idea of what he was doing, then. He couldn’t think clearly, and it was Steve who guided him to his room, kissing away the few tears of what Tony presumed to be joy. Steve then put him in bed and lay down next to him, putting his arms around him and keeping him warm and safe.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sooo… I know it's been way too long since I last updated, and I am terribly sorry about that. Life tends to get in the way, and writing doesn't always get done, and, well. 
> 
> Here we are, anyway. Brand new chapter for you guys, really hope you like it!
> 
> Thank you all for being here and reading this thing, thanks for all your kind words and comments. You are amazing and adorable. 
> 
> I'll leave you to it, now.

Steve had loved his birthday present and had thanked Peter with a bear hug and a bright smile, eyeing Tony as he’d done so.

Clint and Natasha had gone down to the gym to blow off some steam, but Steve had stayed with them instead and they had just, well. Spent the day together, just like they used to.

It felt nice, and warm, and funny, and Peter looked all cheerful and glowing, radiating positive energy and happiness, and Tony wanted to hug him tight and tell him he was beautiful. He didn’t, because he didn’t really know whether Peter would have liked that or not, but he ruffled his hair more than usual and patted him on the back, it was a start. Peter didn’t seem to have any problem at all with Steve’s hugging him though, but Steve was the kind of man who would do these things spontaneously and easily – Tony wasn’t, but he was getting better at it.

They spent the day together and Tony had never felt this good before, relaxed and, well, _happy_ , surrounded by the two persons that meant the world to him. They had lunch, and went for a walk, and had dinner, and watched a movie just like the old days, and when Pete fell asleep on the couch Steve took him in his arms and the kid looked so small there, so tiny; Tony followed them to the room, opened the door for Steve and asked JARVIS for some dim light. When Steve lay Peter down, Tony was the one who tucked him in and he placed a soft kiss on his forehead, wishing him goodnight.

He didn’t expect for Peter to reply – sleepily, he probably wasn’t even completely awake.

_Goodnight, Dad._

Tony had no idea of what he was doing, then. He couldn’t think clearly, and it was Steve who guided him to his room, kissing away the few tears of what Tony presumed to be joy. Steve then put him in bed and lay down next to him, putting his arms around him and keeping him warm and safe.

When Steve whispered, “ _Let me stay, Tony. Please, let me stay_ ”, Tony knew he wasn’t talking about just tonight, there was something _important_ in his voice, and urgent, and so damn _huge_ that it took his breath away. He kissed him so hard he was almost scared he could break him – but Steve laughed a little, a low, relieved laugh that echoed in the night, and Tony felt his heart explode in his chest.

So, this was what happiness truly felt like.

 

*

 

Clint didn’t leave the tower after their barbecue, and neither did Natasha. They didn’t say a thing and just – stayed. It was their home too, after all, and they just went back to their floors again, and if Tony didn’t say it didn’t mean he wasn’t glad to have them around once again.

They casually met for breakfast a couple of days after the fourth, and Clint just smiled at him with a shrug while Nat tilted his head at him and sat down at the breakfast table, drawn by the smell of bacon and pancakes Steve was cooking. That was it, no big deal, they were just there again, and it was okay.

Peter stole a couple of toasts from Clint and a glass of orange juice from Natasha before running out, waving his hand goodbye, and Tony sighed but called Happy immediately, asking him to take the kid to school. And that was it. The tower echoed with life again, and Tony loved it. Even JARVIS seemed happy by the change, his remarks becoming more cheerful and a lot sassier than ever (that was how he showed happiness, just like every respectful Brit. Poor thing), and Steve would laugh at him sometimes and tell him he’d missed him.

Tony had all of Steve’s possessions brought to the tower, but this time Steve didn’t move into his own floor. He put a few of his books in the library, and his sport suits down in the gym, while most of his clothing went into a wardrobe in Tony’s room – and that was it, plain and simple.

They would spend their days together, and Steve would make breakfast for them and drive Peter to school more often than not, and Tony found his unbearable days filled with boring meetings and insufferable conferences were actually a little more bearable, a little less hard to go through when he knew Steve was waiting for him back at the tower together with Peter, dinner ready and smiles all around. It was even better than what they’d had at the very first start, it was, because now they knew it was going to last.

 

*

 

Peter looked at the clock by the wall for the nth time that day and sighed. Five minutes, just five more minutes until the end of class, just three-hundred seconds that separated him from the so longed for weekend filled with relax and sleeping in, and maybe some fun in the lab with Tony, that was good, too.

Mrs Whitehall was still babbling about Poe and his amazingly written poem about some crow or something (yeah, they were almost up to date with American literature now, how entertaining) and Peter wasn’t listening to a word she was saying. Of course. No one else was, except maybe that girl in the front row, red hair and freckles all over her pretty face – Mary Jane, maybe? Peter wasn’t good with names, really. All the kids in his class were just as impatient as he was to finally hear the bell ring and get the hell out of that place as fast as they could, thinking of how great the weekend was going to be.

A little more than three minutes to go. Peter looked at the clock again and told himself he could do this, what were three minutes after all? He had spent the whole day at school, like every other day of the week, he could survive to three more minutes. Except that maybe he couldn’t, because he was tired, and hungry, and a little sleepy since Tony had prohibited him to drink more than two cups of coffee per morning. Which was absolutely outrageous, since Tony was the one who couldn’t _live_ without a cup of coffee in his hands all the time.

“Yo, Parker-boy.”

Peter didn’t even turn to the chair behind his and shrugged lightly instead.

“What?”

“Wanna do something after school? I’m bored.”

“Can’t,” Peter whispered. “Tony’s gonna come pick me up. And I’m not sure I would ever do something with you, Wade. You’re a weirdo.”

“Says the boy who lives with Tony freaking Stark and ignores pretty girls in favour of dull, boring books.”

Peter turned his head a little and saw a smirk shining underneath the cloth that was covering Wade’s face. Saying the guy was a weirdo wasn’t even close, Peter thought. He was mental, yeah, that was more likely.

“Shut up, Wilson.”

“As you wish, Petey-boy.”

Peter sighed and took his head in his hands. One more minute, he was almost free from school, and homework, and that pain in the neck that was Wade Wilson.

“Sure you don’t wanna come out and play tomorrow? I will win you a stupid little stuffed puppy, if that’s what you want.”

Peter let out a low laugh that he immediately covered up with a shrug.

“I’ll let you know if I ever need a knight in shining armour.”

Wilson laughed and kicked his chair a little, and Peter shook his head as he counted the seconds that separated him from his life outside that stupid place. He was a little shocked by himself for not finding Wade _too_ weird to even talk to; sure, kid was irritating as hell, all irksome lines and not so funny puns, and he was a little grouchy, mad at the world for reasons only he knew, but all in all he wasn’t _that_ bad. Peter had always wondered why he would keep a mask on all the time, why it was so important for him not to show his face to the world, and maybe that had a little to do with his excruciating attitude.

Wade was just – well, out of the ordinary for sure, but sometimes the things he said made Peter laugh for no apparent reason.

“Am no knight, Petey,” he replied out loud, and Peter thanked the gods when his voice got covered by the acute sound of the bell. “Give me a call if you’re up for some fun. See ya.”

Peter watched him leave before anyone else, running out of the room so fast almost no one else noticed, and he got all his books back in his backpack, ready to follow.

Stepping out of the school felt like taking a deep breath and enjoying oxygen for the first time in forever, and the sun still shining over New York warmed his bare arms deliciously. Peter smiled to the newly found freedom, short but so much appreciated, and he crossed the impressive iron gate that kept him from everything good life had to offer; he looked around a little, searching for Tony’s car, and he found a flaming red Lamborghini waiting for him across the street, Steve and Tony bickering inside.

Tony said something Peter couldn’t obviously make out, then Steve’s face twitched a little as if he was trying hard not to laugh; of course, he gave in and his face opened up, bright and joyful, and Tony smile’s was so wide that Peter thought it was going to tear his face in two.

Things had been a lot better since Steve had gone back to live with them, and Peter liked the way Tony would smile first thing in the morning, or how Steve would kiss him lightly on the lips making him blush a little; he liked the way all the three of them cuddled up on the couch at night, or how he magically woke up in his own bed every morning. For the first time since he had been collected from his own home when SHIELD had told him both his uncle and aunt were dead, things were good. And he felt like he belonged again, like he had found a family where and when he had least expected it.

Peter smiled to himself as he approached the car and jumped in the backseat, both Tony and Steve turning to look at him.

“Yo, guys,” Peter said cheerfully. “I’m starving. Let’s go eat something?”

“As you wish, kiddo,” Tony beamed, and he turned the engine on. “Any preferences?”

“Nah, your pick.”

Tony looked in the rear-view mirror and grinned a little, shielding his eyes with a pair of sunglasses and nodding enthusiastically. Steve laughed and buckled his seatbelt, hair ruffled by the wind as Tony launched the cabriolet into the evening traffic. Peter took a last quick glance at the institute he was _not_ going to miss for a couple of days, and he found Wade waving him goodbye from the wall he was standing against. Peter waved goodbye back, just a little motion of his hand that Wade caught with a crazy smirked before walking away.

“So, Pete, how was school?”

“Boring, as usual.”

“You know, kiddo, I think you’re way too smart for this place,” Tony interrupted Steve before he could ask anything else. “I mean, this school seemed great and all, but you come home every day and you piffle about how bored you are, how stupid each program is and, I don’t know, maybe we should do something about it.”

“Like, no more school? I can stay with you and work with you in the lab,” Peter said quickly, expression lightened up like a Christmas tree. “I could –“

“No working in the lab,” Steve cut him off. “You’re fifteen. Well, almost sixteen. You need to go to school, Pete.”

“But school is boring!” he whined, falling backwards on his seat and tilting his head back while New York passed him by in a fast mix of colours and sounds. He heard Tony chuckle only to stop immediately when Steve glared at him.

“Okay, tell you what,” Tony said as he tried to ignore Steve’s hard look. “I’ll find something else. Another school, maybe, something that might suit you better. Meanwhile, you’ll still attend classes here, since you can’t stay home all day or follow me around, Steve is right about that.”

“Fine,” Peter said, gritting his teeth a little and relaxed a moment later. “But I want pizza now.”

Tony gave him a soft smile and pushed the gas pedal down a little.

 

*

 

“I gotta go back to DC for a couple of days, you guys are gonna be alright? I won’t find the tower destroyed to smoking ashes, right?”

“So long as he doesn’t cook,” Peter grinned, eyeing Tony and tilting his head at him. Steve laughed out loud, even more so when Tony shot them an offended look and buried his face deep in his first cup of coffee, brain still too sleepy to come up with a sassy reply.

Steve walked around the table, still smiling, laugh slowly dying in his throat, and he poured Peter a glass of fresh orange juice, while he filled Tony’s cup with more steaming coffee. He put his hands on Peter’s shoulders and ruffled his hair a little, placing a soft kiss on the top of his head before going back to his seat and drink his green smoothie Tony had had Rosita make for him the night before.

“Okay, okay,” Steve said. “You’ll be alright. I’ll leave right after breakfast, so I can be there early in the afternoon. If everything goes smooth, I’ll be back for dinner, tomorrow.”

Tony sighed a little, but said nothing. Clearly, he wasn’t much okay with the idea of Steve leaving again, but it was work, he had to, so he just had to suck it up and deal with it.

“Hey, Dad, we could go have some fun in the lab, later,” Peter said, and when Tony’s eyes sparkled he knew he was taking his mind off things, a little. “You know, build something. Adjust something. Can I see Cap’s shield again? Better, can I try build one myself?”

Steve chocked on his smoothie, and Tony laughed a little, patting him on the back until he started to breathe normally again, a little flustered in the neck and ear area.

“Sure, kiddo. Let’s have some fun while Pops is somewhere else, boring himself to death.”

Steve shook Tony an annoyed look, but didn’t reprimand him. They finished their breakfast, and Steve went to pick his bag from the master bedroom, placing it on the floor next to the elevator that was going to take him down to the parkin lot where the sidecar was.

He hugged Peter tight and kissed his forehead, laughing happily when the kid complained about all that mawkishness, then he grabbed Tony’s shirt and pulled him in closer for a deep, passionate kiss to which Peter started making chocking noises typical of throwing up as a display of affection.

Steve kissed Tony more deeply, to Tony’s amusement, and Peter shook his head and left the room before things got way too heated for his taste.

“Be back soon,” Steve whispered on Tony’s lips before stealing him a soft kiss. “Take care. And behave. And don’t burn the house down.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Tony laughed before kissing him quickly. “I love you too.”

 

*

 

July was leaving room for August to come haunt them down with another insufferable heat wave, and Peter often found comfort in going up the roof for dinner with Steve and Tony, sometimes even with Clint and Natasha, if they were around.

It was the hottest summer he could remember since a few years, and the roof was the only place where he didn’t feel like his body was melting into a shapeless puddle of liquefied meat. Steve and Tony liked it too, sitting by the pool while drafts of fresh air blew over them, bringing little but nonetheless craved for relief.

It was just another night like any others, Steve had come back from another one of his trips and was now enjoying the quiet that an almost empty roof provided, looking at New York extending before his eyes in a multitude of lights and colours while Tony was in the kitchen, making them all a nice cup of ice cream.

Peter felt his gaze on himself, and he knew Steve was up to something. He was torturing his hands a little, and he looked anxious; Peter felt his heart drop to his stomach while he thought of what was possibly going wrong, what was making Steve sweat with concern.

“Kid, I, uh… I wanna tell you something.”

Peter nodded, mouth dry and hammering heart, and he shook a brief look at the kitchen before getting up and walking to Steve’s deckchair, sitting in front of him with a worried look in his eyes.

“I wanted to tell you this some time ago, but I just, er.”

Steve swallowed the words that had gotten stuck in his throat, then smiled a little.

“I, uhm. You know how Tony is Iron Man, right, everybody knows that,” he said, and Peter relaxed almost immediately. “And, er, Natasha and Clint are, well, Avengers, too, I know you know that, Clint told me he showed you his bow and all. And of course you know about Bruce, and, well, I just wanted to, uhm.”

“Pops?” Peter asked, and Steve looked up from his apparently super interesting hands for a moment. “Are you trying to tell me you’re Captain America? Because I have figured that out already.”

“You – you have? How?”

Peter laughed to his shocked, confused expression and really, what did Steve think he was, stupid or something? It was so _obvious_ , and it was really amazing how other people didn’t seem to notice; Steve hid under a mask, but was still recognizable, wasn’t he?

“It was obvious, Pops,” Peter told him, trying to sound reassuring and not mocking. “I was just waiting for you to tell me, didn’t want to, you know. Force it out of you. It’s okay, by the way. Actually, it’s super cool.”

Steve let out a shy smile that grew wider when Peter mirrored it with a grin, and Tony found them laughing for no apparent reason only few minutes later. He thought of asking what was so funny, then didn’t; it wasn’t his business after all, maybe it was something those two wanted to keep to each other, and it was okay.

“Ice cream, everyone!” he said instead, putting the tray on a coffee table nearby. “Pete, I know I am a horrible person and I shouldn’t let you eat ice cream at this time of night, but I think we can overlook this little detail just for tonight.”

“Yeah, just for tonight.”

 

*

 

“And so he landed right next to me, big suit of armour and all,” Steve said, and gave Tony a quick, affectionate look. “And he pointed all of his guns at Loki and said something I don’t really remember and he just. Looked amazing, incredibly powerful, and Loki surrendered just like that. Tony saluted me military style, and I him, and this, kiddo, is the story of how I met your Dad.”

“Well, Loki didn’t actually surrender _just_ like that,” Tony said as he bumped his shoulder against Steve’s. “We later found out it was all a plan of his to get to us and destroy the Avengers before we even had the chance to fight him, but anyway. It was a great night. And I managed to piss Pops off as soon as we got on the quinjet.”

Tony watched Peter start laughing out loud, flexed on himself, tears in his eyes; he made this little sound, like a grunt, that made Tony burst into laughter as well, and he turned to give Steve a wibbly wobbly kiss while Clint made a disgusted sound. Peter laughed even louder.

“I can confirm that, Tony was an asshole,” Natasha said, sipping her iced tea. “What? It’s true. He was all ‘ _Capsicle_ ’ here, and ‘ _pilates_ ’ there, and of course Steve didn’t like his tone, he was still adjusting to the modern world.”

“Thanks, Widow, so very kind of you,” Tony pouted, curling into Steve’s arms a little more, as if he wanted to disappear from sight or melt with him into one being. Steve gladly welcomed him and held him just a little tighter, kissing him lightly when he thought the others were too busy to notice. Peter wasn’t, though, and he noticed; he also smiled, because those two were incredibly cute and sweet as hell, and he liked to see them like this. Happy. In love.

Peter also liked the way love seemed to spread all around, how they were all comfortable around each other, how much they seemed to care. He could see it in the way Clint brushed his hands against Natasha’s, or in the way she would smile at him sometimes, like he meant the world to her; he could see it in the understanding looks Natasha and Steve would share, as if the bond that linked them was strong and didn’t need words, or in the way Clint would mock Tony, affectionately. They were all friends, but they were also so much more than that.

They were family.

“Why Capsicle?” Peter asked and Tony shrugged, buried deep in Steve’s arms.

“Because he was a frozen Captain. A Popsicle from the forties. Hence, Capsicle.”

Steve shook his head, but the look in his eyes was kind and warm; Peter laughed again, and now everyone was laughing up there on the roof, and Peter felt at home.

 

*

 

Tony woke up to Steve lightly pushing his body against his, and damn if it wasn’t something he wanted to wake up to every single morning until the day he died. He pushed himself backwards, meeting Steve’s erection and brushing his ass against it, and Steve chuckled in his ear, holding him closer, a hand running under his body to reach and caress his stomach while he placed the other on his hip, slowly infiltrating under his t-shirt.

“Good morning,” Steve whispered, hot breath against the tender skin right below his ear, and he bit it lightly soon after, giving Tony a shiver or two. When he pushed harder against his back Tony sighed and grabbed the hand on his hip together with the hem of his boxers and pushed it down a little. He was fully hard already, no more teasing needed – and Steve got it. He laughed as he pushed down Tony’s underwear completely, and moved away from him to catch the lube they had started keeping in the drawer by the bed; Tony felt his sticky fingers penetrating him soon after and he arched his back, thrusting his ass towards Steve, panting lightly already.

Steve pushed his knee upwards with his own and Tony obliged, following his move and giving him a better angle. His brain disconnected completely, thanks to the morning dizziness and lack of caffeine too, and he found himself whispering Steve’s name when he felt Steve replacing his fingers with his rock-hard dick. It didn’t even hurt as much when Steve penetrated him slowly, his body getting used to the intrusion and all, but it always gave Tony a shiver down his spine, electrifying.

“God, Tony, you’re so hot.”

Steve caressed his neck with his tongue and placed gentle wet kisses on his skin, gripping his hip tight and moving smoothly inside of him, thrusting at a slow pace that was gonna drive him mad. He hated when Steve fucked him like that, carefully, easily, taking all the time in the world just because he could; he hated it because it was deep, and intense, and it gave him the best orgasms of his life. He hated it because it felt like Steve was worshipping his body, caressing it with his eyes and hands, and no one had ever treated him like that, like he was something precious and fragile, important.

Tony grabbed Steve’s hand with his own and took a deep breath, feeling Steve’s cock sliding carefully in and out, and he didn’t want it any different. He didn’t want Steve to fuck him hard, not now, not when the feeble light of a brand new dawn was filtering through the windows, colouring the room with light shadows and gold. He loved it when Steve made love to him like that, because it was special, and _he_ felt special, and Steve, oh, Steve was simply a wonder Tony didn’t really know who to thank for.

“I love you,” Steve whispered right into his ear and Tony smiled, tilting his head back and turning it a little so that he could catch Steve’s lips in a soft kiss. Steve held him tighter and smiled in the kiss, biting his lower lip playfully and letting him go when the uncomfortable position started hurting his neck. Steve hugged him, keeping him warm in his arms, and Tony took one of his hands in his own, lifting it upwards until he could reach it with his lips; he kissed each fingertip, then the open palm, then the back, and Steve buried his head in the crook of Tony’s neck, his thrusts deeper and steadier.

When Steve’s hand slid down his stomach and grabbed his cock Tony stopped breathing, air engulfed from all around him as Steve started masturbating him as slowly as he was pushing himself inside of him, and Tony felt on the verge of coming already. Steve was solid behind and all around him, comforting and reassuring, loving. Caring. Steve cared so much about him and showed it with every look, every light touch, with every thrust, and Tony wasn’t sure he deserved all that. Steve was so fucking _everything_ and he wasn’t sure he was good enough, but Steve, oh, Steve made him feel like enough wasn’t even close to describe what he was to him.

“I love you,” Tony let out softly, and he pushed his whole body backwards to meet Steve only to feel him shaking behind him, panting and sweating, hands trembling uncontrollably. “I love you so much.”

Steve didn’t reply and his body tensed while the orgasm caught him, and Tony smiled when Steve tried to hold himself for his sake; he met Steve’s thrust with a little more vigour than before and he heard Steve let out a low, growling laugh on his neck.

“Come, baby,” Tony told him while Steve started masturbating him faster. “Come for me.”

“God, Tony –“

“Come for me, Steve.”

Steve held his breath for a moment that seemed to last for eternity and Tony could feel his heart beating right behind him, he felt it as if it was his own ribcage it was trying to escape from, and he smiled, and he laughed, because there was nothing better than sharing all of that with Steve, than feel him breathing heavily with his heart in his throat, and Tony loved it all.

Steve came inside of him with a groan and a whisper, words rolling out his lucid wet lips like a prayer that caressed Tony’s skin and pushed him over the edge, making him shake like a leaf in strong winds. He came short after him, muttering under his breath while Steve’s voice accompanied him, soothing and morbid.

Tony tried to catch his breath and found it incredibly hard, feeling like his heart was going to burst out of his chest any moment now. He gave in to the tiredness that was slowly crawling over him and relaxed against Steve’s body, intertwined with his own, while Steve pushed himself out of him gently, kissing his shoulder and neck lasciviously. They lay in bed while silence fell upon them, warm and soft, and Steve kept on hugging him as if it was a matter of life and death, as if letting go meant losing grip on reality and Tony felt just the same. Steve was the only one who kept him anchored to a world that could be cruel, ruthless at times, he kept him anchored to everything good that one could find in it and Tony felt his heart grow warmer in his chest every time he as much as thought of Steve. He was everything, every fucking thing, and Tony needed him; Steve was his oxygen, the man who made him feel alive after so many years of self-pity and destruction, after falling so low he had doubted he’d be able to stand up again.

Tony had found his strength for Peter, and Steve was the glue that kept it all together, and it was so perfect Tony always wondered whether he was awake or just dreaming, for the world didn’t seem such a horrible place now that Pete and Steve were by his side.

Steve shifted a little beside him, getting more comfortable on his side and intertwining their legs together, and Tony felt a new sense of peace and calm take over him. He looked at the light coming in from the windows and he smiled, thinking of how beautiful it all was, of how the world was such an incredible place he had never really lived to its full potential because always too angry, or too scared. He could see it now, all of what was beautiful and kind out there, and it made him feel at peace with himself.

“Tony, I can hear your brain whirring,” Steve joked, voice husky and low, and Tony turned around in his arms, shifting until he was facing him. He caressed Steve’s cheek with his hand and kissed him softly, just a peck on the lips, smiling.

“Sorry,” he whispered, and his voice too was a little rough, scratching at the back of his throat. Steve smiled back at him and Tony stared at him in amazement and wonder, for Steve was so incredibly beautiful it was almost painful to look at him. He was beautiful in and out, which was what took Tony’s breath away, because he had never believed such a person could ever exist. Yet, there Steve was, brushing against him, kissing him in the increasing light of the new day, lazy and sleepy and beautiful, and Tony wanted to stay like that forever. Wanted to be with him forever.

“It’s okay.”

Tony shut his brain down and shut up, shifting closer to Steve and laying there with him, staring at him in amazement until JARVIS informed them Peter was awake and in need for breakfast. Yes, even JARVIS was now babysitting the kid.

Tony laughed and kissed Steve quickly before putting his clothes on and going to the kitchen to prevent Peter from burning it to ashes in the attempt of making breakfast.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, just a couple of things. 
> 
> First, porn! Yay! Very much needed.
> 
> And secondly, Wade. I messed with the ages a little, so that he is only a couple of years older than Peter, because I needed him to be in school with him. Also, we will be seeing him again. 
> 
> Sorry again for the super late update, I'll try to post next chapter asap. 
> 
>  
> 
> Lotta love,
> 
> C.


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tony fell silent and he just looked at Steve, silently begging of him not to let any of that happen because he couldn’t, he couldn’t let Fury and the law take Peter from them. It was wrong, it was madness; Peter was everything, and Tony couldn’t just let him go, not now and not ever. Peter was the son he’d never had, and he loved him. Pete was his, and his whole life belonged to the kid now, Fury couldn’t destroy them just like that, without even blinking.  
>   
> “Tony, I can’t –“  
>   
> “Don’t.”  
>   
> Tony pushed Steve away with both hands and stepped back again, refusing to let him come near anymore.  
>   
> “Don’t give me this crap, Steven,” he hissed. “This is one order you will not follow, I don’t care how much it’ll cost. We can’t let them take him, it’s not gonna happen. Think of Peter, Steve. Think of him, think of what this is gonna do to him. We’re the only family he’s got, we can’t let him go, it’ll break him, it will –“

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys! Sorry it took so long, but here I am again, with a new chapter. 
> 
> I wanna thank you all for your amazing feedback and comments, you guys are the best and I adore you <3
> 
> I'll just... leave you to it, now. More babbling later.
> 
> xx

“Dad, come on, we’re gonna be late for the movie!”

Tony stumbled upon his own feet, trying to put on his sneakers right while walking around the house, looking for his favourite Black Sabbath shirt. He was sure he had left it in the lounge, somewhere on the couch. Where was it? Oh, Rosita. That woman was going to drive him mad with her OCD.

“Almost ready, kiddo,” Tony shouted back at Peter, ready by the elevator, impatiently stamping his feet on the ground.

“I’ll be one sec, Pete, and we’re not late, so shut it. We’re gonna make it in time, don’t worry.”

Peter sighed, annoyed, and pushed the button, eyeing him with a not so happy expression on his face that made Tony laugh. He was such a kid, sometimes, and Tony loved it, that Pete acted out like the kid he was, sadness not forgotten but at least shut in some dark corner inside of him where, Tony hoped, he was going to keep it for a long, long time.

“Steve, have you seen my –“ Tony yelled as soon as he spotted Steve walking towards Peter. With a t-shirt in his hands. Oh. “Is that -?”

“Yes, it is. Now, hurry up.”

Steve’s voice sounded less like his and more like Cap’s, but he was smiling and Tony couldn’t help but smile as well as he took the clothing and finally put it on. He moved a step and grabbed Steve’s shirt only to pull him in for a kiss, and he barked a laugh when Peter sighed loudly.

“You two are hopeless,” he said, stepping into the elevator. “I’ll wait in the parking lot.”

“We’re ready, Pete.”

Steve pecked Tony on the lips and dragged him all the way to the elevator, shoving him inside despite his complaints, to Peter’s amusement.

 

*

 

Tony groaned and tilted his head back, standing precariously on his elbows with his legs spread out while Steve’s head moved up and down in between. He held his breath when Steve did that thing with his tongue, the little circling the tip of his dick thing only to suck it slow after, right before taking its full length into his mouth while stroking the base with one hand.

It was still early morning, nine-ish or something, which translated in Tony’s language meant _dawn_ , but Steve, Steve was always up early. In every possible sense.

Tony had found Steve was fond of beginning each new day with sex – slow, intimate, deep sex or blow jobs that made Tony’s heart hammer so loud in his chest he was almost scared of getting a heart attack and die young and handsome. Of course, Steve would wake up super early and wake Tony as well, taking his time to work him up slowly before giving him the action he needed, and they always got in the shower together afterwards, where Tony would wash every inch of Steve’s body – with his tongue first, soap later. Every morning, they came down to the kitchen with a relaxed smile stretching their lips and Steve would make breakfast for them, and Peter, before driving the kid to school himself.

Steve loved driving Pete to school, it gave them some more time to spend together and talk, even if Steve was usually the one doing the talking while Peter would yawn and rub his eyes and glare at him because it was way too early for his brain to function properly. Steve always made fun of him, saying he terribly resembled Tony in so many ways, and the kid would play offended, but Tony’s chest would swell with pride.

“Fuck, Steve –“

And Steve did it again, he spat on the tip of Tony’s hard dick only lo lick its length before sucking it again, so slowly it was going to kill Tony badly. Steve loved taking it slow, taking his time to explore his body, to test it, to find all the spots that if stimulated correctly were going to push him over the edge in no time. He loved it, and Tony loved it too, loving even more when he was the one finding new ways to pleasure Steve, with hands, mouth and dick. Toys, even, but rarely.

Steve didn’t say a thing, he possibly _couldn’t,_ mouth full of Tony and all, but he raised his head as little as needed without parting his lips from Tony’s dick, and he looked up, eyes as blue as the sky veiled with shiny lust. He smirked a little, corner of his lips curling up around his cock, and Tony felt like he was possibly going to die there and then, with Steve smirking while blowing him off like that. Steve was a vision, hair ruffled with sleep, body naked and muscles flexing at his every move, and it made Tony’s mouth dry with desire.

When Steve penetrated him with two lubricated fingers Tony arched his back, pushing himself towards him and he closed his eyes, intertwining his fingers in Steve’s hair lightly. His hips jerked upwards when Steve pushed his dick in his mouth to the back of his throat and Tony was breathing heavily, planting his feet hard into the mattress while his body started to shake violently and he felt the familiar warmth burning in his lower stomach.

“Steve, God, I’m –“

He tried to push Steve away as gently as he could but Steve didn’t move; his grip on his hips became stronger, fingernails leaving a mark on the skin that was going to remind Tony of this moment for a few days at least, and when his dick twitched in Steve’s mouth Steve just sucked harder with a tad more pressure that triggered an orgasm so violent it took Tony’s breath away, swallowing it all down.

_Director Fury for you, Sir._

Tony tried to laugh, still panting, while Steve was sliding up his body to reach his mouth and kiss it hard.

“We’re, uh, _busy_ , JARVIS,” he let out while Steve kept on kissing his neck as if it was his life mission. “Tell him to call back.”

_Director Fury is in the lounge, Sir._

Steve sat up on the bed and Tony did the same, confused and bewildered.

“What do you mean in the lounge, JARVIS? How did he –“

“Tony, put your pants on. We gotta go.”

Steve jumped off the bed, mindless of his own painful erection, and put on the jeans he had neatly folded on the chair by the bed the night before, together with a raggedy shirt. It took Tony a few slow seconds to notice the expression on his face – serious, the kind of ‘on duty’ face Captain America would wear, and it took him maybe a little longer before he could get up from their bed and get dressed.

“JARVIS, tell Fury we’re coming down.”

It wasn’t even the seriousness of Steve’s face that worried Tony, but the look in his eyes, as if he was sensing something was wrong. What if something had happened? Was if their intervention was required? What if it was bad?

Tony’s heart shrank in his chest as he rushed to follow Steve down the corridor and all the way to the lounge, each step heavy and hard to move. He watched the tension in Steve’s shoulders and wished it was unjustified, but somewhere deep down he knew it wasn’t.

What was Fury doing in their lounge? Why had he come like that, suddenly and unannounced? What had made him move his stupid ass from HQ and come all the way to the Tower?

“Steve,” Tony said, as his voice was low and steady, so dead cold Steve stopped right before he reached the door and turned to look at him. “What if this is about Peter?”

Tony felt a lump in his throat as he said the words, and the scared look in Steve’s eyes seemed to match his own deepest fears. Fury hadn’t call, hadn’t asked about Peter once, and after a while Tony had started to think the Director had just forgotten all about him – and it was okay, because Peter was right where he was supposed to be, with him, and Steve, and all the Avengers. He was a part of them, and a deep, huge part of Tony’s life, eradicated in his days and heart.

“It’s gonna be alright, Tony,” Steve said, and Tony knew it was a lie, he knew it, from the way Steve’s lips were straightened into a thin line, from the way his eyes had turned a darker shade of blue streaked with grey, like a thunderstorm. He knew Steve was lying bluntly to his face, but Steve’s voice was soothing and calm, balm to his fear, and Tony nodded, not trusting his own voice not to shake, before Steve opened the door and he followed him inside.

The lounge was tidy and clean, but not as spotless as it used to be before Peter moved in the tower. Tony had never liked spotless much, everything was better when deeply used and lived through, and he loved the way he could just look around and spot all the small changes Peter’s presence had made in the room. His comics laying on the coffee table, the X-box connected to the huge flat screen, even his shoes peeking from under the sofa. He had to remove them and put them in place before Rosita gave herself a heart attack.  

Steve grabbed his hand and squeezed it lightly for a moment before letting it go and cleared his throat to get the Director’s attention.

Fury was standing by the glass window, intently looking outside, hands joined behind his back. He was wearing his usual black leather coat despite the hot weather, and for a moment he didn’t move, still as a statue, so still Tony wasn’t even sure he was breathing. But the moment passed quickly, and Fury slowly turned around to face them, unperturbed, his worst poker face on. He stared at them both with the only eye he had left and Tony’s heart was beating so fast he feared Fury could hear it.

“Captain. Stark.”

“Director.”

Tony tilted his head at him and let Steve’s greeting be enough for the two of them.

He was scared. Hell, he had never been this scared in his whole life. He had never looked back at Fury with heavy guts and sweaty hands.

“You didn’t have to bother and come all the way here if you needed me back, Nick,” Steve said, calm and relaxed, but Tony could see how that wasn’t true. It was nothing but a façade, and Fury surely noticed it too.

“Romanoff is taking good care of the newbies, Rogers,” he said with a smile that made Tony’s skin crawl. He didn’t dislike Fury _much_ , but the guy had always given him the creeps; for sure, Tony didn’t like following his orders and blindly obeying him, but he knew Fury was a great guy, the greatest Director SHIELD had ever had. He just – he didn’t like the look in his eyes now, righteous and maybe just a little sorry; he didn’t like the way he smiled, as if that was meant to be reassuring – because it fucking wasn’t.

“I believe we all know why I’m here,” Fury said, and Tony moved closer to Steve, brushing his shoulder against his, almost unconsciously.

“Xavier has confirmed a place for the Parker kid in his school,” Fury talked on, looking at them in the eyes. “He’s ready to receive him immediately. His institute is the perfect place for the kid, and –“

“Bullshit.”

Tony clenched his fists until his knuckles whitened and he tried to breathe in and out, slowly, nostrils flaring while a burning rage built up in his chest. He was aware of Steve’s eyes on him, but he couldn’t care; his were fixed on Fury, hard and cold as stones, and there was no way he’d let him do that.

“The _Parker kid_ , as you call him, is alright where he is,” he hissed. “He is not a parcel someone is going to send or receive. You hear me, Nick? You turn around and go back to your life at HQ, and leave us to ours.”

“I’m afraid I can’t do that, Stark.”

“Nick,” Steve interrupted, eyeing one, then the other. “What Tony is trying to say is, Peter is alright. He’s okay with living here, and –“

“Oh, I don’t doubt that, Steven,” Fury said, and for a moment his mask wavered, showing emotions behind his cold eye. “But I’m afraid the kid has to go to Xavier’s, now.”

“There’s no reason to –“

Steve’s protest died in his throat when he looked at the Director, and somehow he seemed to be figuring out something Tony had no idea was even there.

“You are not his legal guardian, Stark.”

_Not his legal guardian._

“What the hell is this supposed to mean?” Tony snapped, stepping forward and being held back by Steve’s hand on his arm. “What the fuck do you mean I’m not his legal guardian, Nick? Who the hell you think has taken care of him while you were too busy doing your super spy stuff? Who the hell do you think was here to deal with him when he was angry, and upset? I was. I was here, I worked with him so that he could feel better. I’ve fed him, and reprimanded him, and spent every single day with him. And Steve has, too. You have no right to –“

“Stark, I _am_ sorry. But there ain’t nothing I can do. He’s an orphan mutant, and the law is pretty clear on how to deal with that.”

Tony let out a barking laugh that died in his throat when Steve tried to hold his hand. He pushed him away, he couldn’t bear to have him watch him acting out like that – but he wasn’t, he wasn’t just _acting out_ , it was Peter they were talking about, and the possibility Fury would take him away from them, and Tony couldn’t stand it, he couldn’t even _think_ of it without feeling like he couldn’t breathe.

“Screw the law,” Tony shouted. “Screw you, and the law, and whoever tries to tell me that taking Pete from us is right. You can’t, Nick, you can’t just come here and –“

“Tony.”

Tony turned around to face Steve so fast the movement hurt a little, but he couldn’t care less as of now. Steve’s voice was low, and broken. Hurt, sad. No, Steve couldn’t just – he couldn’t, it wasn’t _right_ , and they had to –

“Tony, come here,” Steve whispered, reaching out to him with an outstretched hand, and Tony moved a step back. “Come here, babe. Please. Come here.”

“Steve, you can’t.”

Tony forgot all about Fury, focused as he was on the look in Steve’s eyes. It was so sad that was breaking _him_ in two, and it hid a pain so great Tony didn’t know how Steve could bear it without breaking himself, without shattering into a billion of tiny little pieces. Steve’s eyes were lucid with what Tony recognized as held-back tears, and maybe he cocked his head on a side a little, trying to make out the shapes they were going to take as soon as they’d left his eyes to run down his cheeks.

“Babe, please,” Steve said again, and his voice was a whispered prayer that stabbed Tony right in the guts and left him bleeding on their lounge’s floor. “Come here. Tony, please, just –“

Steve looked so _devastated_ , like he had just lost every hope, like he couldn’t find any way out of that but it wasn’t true, it _had_ to be a lie, because, come on, really? They were going to come up with something, of course they were, no one was going to take Peter from them, Steve would have never let them.

Tony stumbled towards Steve, trembling step after trembling step, and when he was close enough Steve put his arms around him and held so tight it hurt, whispering soft words into his ears and caressing his back the way he knew would be a little comfort to him.

“Steve. Steve, we can’t –“

Tony didn’t know he had started crying, he hadn’t noticed, but his vision was blurred and his cheeks wet with tears now, so that must’ve happened at some point, he must’ve started crying even if he couldn’t remember. Steve kissed his tears away, slowly, patiently, cupping his face in his hands and kissing his lips lightly.

“Steve, we can’t just –“

Steve kissed him deeply and his grip was like iron, but his hands were shaking too, Tony could feel it. And maybe, maybe Steve was crying as well and his tear mixed with Tony’s at some point, and he tasted them on his tongue, in the kiss.

“Don’t let him take Pete.”

Tony fell silent and he just looked at Steve, silently begging of him not to let any of that happen because he couldn’t, he couldn’t let Fury and the law take Peter from them. It was wrong, it was _madness_ ; Peter was _everything_ , and Tony couldn’t just let him go, not now and not ever. Peter was the son he’d never had, and he loved him. Pete was his, and his whole life belonged to the kid now, Fury couldn’t destroy them just like that, without even blinking.

“Tony, I can’t –“

“Don’t.”

Tony pushed Steve away with both hands and stepped back again, refusing to let him come near anymore.

“Don’t give me this crap, Steven,” he hissed. “This is one order you will not follow, I don’t care how much it’ll cost. We can’t let them take him, it’s not gonna happen. Think of Peter, Steve. Think of him, think of what this is gonna do _to him_. We’re the only family he’s got, we can’t let him go, it’ll break him, it will –“

Tony felt his chest so heavy it hurt, and he tried to take a deep breath but it was all in vain; he couldn’t breathe, his throat was burning and his heart ached, surges of pain cutting through it like a knife. He couldn’t even bare to look at Steve now, not when he wasn’t going to do anything but watch as Fury destroyed Peter’s life as if he didn’t care – and he didn’t, Tony knew Fury didn’t give a damn about what was going to happen to Peter once he’d leave the tower. He was just going to leave him to Xavier and forget all about him, forget that all that mess had ever happened in the first place, but Peter, oh, Peter couldn’t outlive losing it all once again. It was going to destroy him, tear him to pieces and Tony knew it wasn’t going to be as easy to put him back together again this time.

“Tony, there’s nothing we can do,” Steve whispered, and he sounded so sorry Tony almost believed him. “It’s the law, Tony, we can’t –“

“Fuck you,” Tony shouted. “Fuck you, and him, and the law. Peter belongs with me, and I will do everything I can not to –“

“Stark.”

Fury interrupted him with a firm voice, and Tony turned to look at him, surprised to find him still standing there. The director was calm, his expression unreadable as always, his lips lightly curved downwards; he moved a step towards them, carefully, and then another, and another. Tony had no idea what he wanted to achieve by coming close to them, he should’ve known better than to approach _him_ when he had just pissed him off badly, but Fury didn’t seem scared, nor impressed by his behaviour. If only, he looked weirdly sympathetic, which made Tony even angrier.

“I am sorry,” the Director said, and he put a hand on Tony’s shoulder. “I am. But this is the law. I have to take the kid away, now. You can try to ask for his custody, start all the legal processes needed to be appointed as his guardian, but until then, Peter will stay with Xavier.”

Tony stared at the hand on his shoulder, bewildered and a little fascinated by the guts Fury was showing, then pushed it away rudely and faced him with rage burning in his dark eyes.

“This is not over, Nick,” he hissed on his face, so close he could feel the Director’s breath. “I will get him back, no matter what.”

As he stormed out of the room, he heard Steve calling for him but ignored his pleading voice. He couldn’t deal with Steve now, not when Steve couldn’t even fight for what was theirs, not when he was ready to let Peter go, because he wasn’t. He was never going to be ready to let Peter go.

 

*

 

Peter woke up to someone shouting. At first, he thought he was still dreaming, his head dizzy and blurred with sleep, his eyes still adjusting to the morning light, but the shouting intensified, and there was a loud bang of a door being slammed shut and he opened his eyes, immediately awake. His senses tingled and itched, his body tense and ready to jerk off the bed in case of emergency, but the shouting vanished all of a sudden, and the tower was silent again.

He sat on the bed and looked around at the familiar room, where everything seemed just the same. An orange light was coming in through the red curtains and the clock on his bedside table signalled it wasn’t even ten in the morning; Tony and Steve usually slept a little late on Sundays, and Peter got up quickly as he tried to figure out what the noise meant.

He put on jeans and a shirt, walking out of the room as silently as he could. The corridor was deserted and quiet at that time of the day and Peter tiptoed through it, vigilant; his senses were still itching badly, so much that he thought something _was_ going to happen, but he had no idea what that could be. Something smelled different in the air as if it was electrified, vibrating with a tension so tangible Peter could almost taste it, and it was a little scary.

When he reached the door to the lounge he stopped for a moment, trying to make out the soft whispering that came from inside. He thought he’d heard Steve’s voice, yes, it was definitely Steve’s, but the other was new, unknown. It didn’t belong to Tony.

Peter took a deep breath and put his hand around the door handle, metal cold to the touch; he stared at it, insecure and a little alarmed, and when he pushed it open Steve’s voice reached him clearer. It sounded tired, and broken, and a little desperate, and for a moment Peter wondered whether he and Tony had had another fight, whether they were going to break up again. The mere thought made him feel like he was going to throw up, because thinking of seeing them both looking all crappy and miserable all over again was the worst he could think of.

He stepped inside the room as silently as he could, but he knew Steve was going to notice him anyway. Pops had this super ability to know whenever he was around, it was almost fascinating – he would just call out for him, knowing he was standing right there. It was maybe a little creepy, too, but Peter liked it anyway, that Steve could just sense his presence like that.

And of course, Steve did it again. He was standing with his back to the door, next to the big glass windows, light hitting his blond hair and making it look all shiny and holy, and he just turned around with a sad smile on his face, hand outstretched towards him.

“Pete, hey.”

Peter stared at him and noticed how red his eyes were, as if he had been crying; he looked tired, and pale, and his smile wasn’t coming out right despite Steve was trying so hard.

“This is, uh, Director Fury. I don’t believe you’ve met?”

Peter shook his head as he approached Steve and shifted closer to him, a reassuring hand patting his shoulder immediately. Only, Steve’s hands were shaking, and he looked like he hadn’t been sleeping at all, or worse.

Director Fury was silent, and scary. He had a patch on his left eye that made him look a little like a bad pirate, and despite his being calm he came off threatening, hostile. When he smiled, Peter felt like staring at a shark ready to tear him apart limb by limb, and his heart hammered in his chest while a cold fear embraced him.

“Where’s Tony?” he asked, and Steve’s smile faltered a little under his question. Steve ran a hand through his hair and looked short of words, confused, as if he didn’t know what to say, and Peter felt his heart shrink in his chest. So maybe they had had a fight, after all.

“He’s, uh,” Steve said, and Peter noticed the way he eyed that Fury guy. “He’s not feeling well, at the moment.”

“Did you break up again?” Peter asked, bluntly, but seriously, he couldn’t care less if his questions were going to embarrass Steve or not. He needed to know what the hell was going on, because something definitely was.

“No, kid, we didn’t break up,” Steve told him, voice calm and reassuring. Still, Peter couldn’t believe him, not completely.

“Director Fury,” Steve talked on, and now he turned to face him. “He’s the Director of SHIELD.”

SHIELD.

The same SHIELD that had taken him from his home only a few months back, the same SHIELD that had scared the crap out of him and forced him into a car without even telling why they were taking him, or where. Peter had no idea of who those guys were, not exactly, but he didn’t like them. They hadn’t been the ones killing his Uncle or his Aunt, but sure as hell they had contributed to make his life a little more miserable.

“What does he want from us?” Peter asked, not looking at the man directly. He gave him the creeps. “Pops, why isn’t Dad here?”

Steve shivered a little, and he bit his lower lip for a moment; he took a breath, then tried to stretch his lips in a smile that meant to be reassuring, but was only scary. He looked like he had no idea what to tell him, like words weren’t as easy to pronounce, and Steve had always found the right words for him. Now he was silent, and his eyes were red, and he looked like he was going to cry.

“Pete,” Steve said, and his voice was heavy with the tears he was trying to hold back. “I need you to listen to me, okay? Director Fury has come here to, uh. He’s here to –“

“Pops?”

When Steve closed his eyes, a solitary tear ran down his cheek and Peter somehow knew. Deep down, he had always known it was going to happen anyway, sooner or later it didn’t matter; he had known this moment was going to come because, come on, he would have been a stupid to think this, all of this, was going to last.

But he had hoped, oh, he had hoped so hard for things to stay just the way they were, he had prayed and begged whatever entity there was to let him live in that tower, with Tony, and Steve.

“He’s here to take me away, isn’t he.”

It wasn’t even a question, Peter already knew his suspicions were right. He knew that the man in black had come for him, it was just – well, logical.

“I wanna talk to Tony,” Peter said, and maybe he was starting to cry. Maybe he didn’t care. “I wanna see Dad, I don’t want to –“

“Pete, kid, listen to me.”

When Steve put his arms around him, Peter let him. Steve had always hugged him like that, so tight it was difficult to even breathe, and he loved it; he had always felt safe in Steve’s arms, but today was different. Today, Steve was going to hug him goodbye, and he couldn’t – he couldn’t think that was the last time they were –

“It’s gonna be alright,” Steve said as he kissed the top of his head. “I promise, it’s gonna be alright. I will – there’s nothing we can do, now. But we will, Tony and I – I swear, Pete, we won’t let –“

Peter felt his mouth dry, and his throat burning with all the sobs he was so desperately trying to hold back; his chest hurt so much and he couldn’t breathe, he had to let it all out before it took his breath away for good, and so he did. He sobbed, once; then again, and again, and again, until tears blurred his sight, and he grabbed Steve’s shirt to help himself upright.

“Pops, I don’t –“

“It’s okay, Pete, I promise, it’s –“

“Where’s Dad, I want Dad to come here and – I’m sure he can –“

Tony wasn’t going to let that Fury guy take him, was he? No, Peter knew Tony enough, he was someone who would’ve put up a fight rather than stand by and watch things happen. Tony had to be coming to the lounge, he was going to be there any second now, and it was going to be okay, it was, because Tony would have never let SHIELD take him away. Tony liked him. Tony was his freaking _Dad_ , and dads didn’t let their kids be taken by stupid secret agencies; dads kept their kids safe, they had to, Peter knew that, even if he had never known it first-hand. He had never had a dad, his having died when he was but a toddler – but Tony, Tony was. Tony was the dad he had never had, and he was a shit-crazy megalomaniac but Peter loved him anyway.

“Pops, tell Dad to come here, he will –“

“He –“

Steve’s voice broke and in that very moment Peter’s heart shattered into pieces. Tony wasn’t going to come down, was he? He wasn’t going to tell Fury to get the fuck out of there, he wasn’t going to suit up or fight at all. He was… well, somewhere else. Maybe he didn’t even want to be there when SHIELD took him away, maybe Tony had been the one calling them in the first place.

Peter had thought – he had thought they were having it good, the three of them. He’d thought their life was if not perfect, at least so very close to be, and he just. Maybe he had just been wrong all along. Maybe Tony had never intended for him to stay there with him, maybe this was the plan since day one and he had been too fucking naïve to notice. Maybe Tony was already packing all his stuff to handle to Fury, and that was it.

“Pete, kiddo, I promise we will –“

Peter stared at Steve as if he couldn’t even see him; he was nothing but a blurred human-shaped shadow that was going to vanish as soon as the morning light would’ve hit the exact spot it was occupying.

Tony wasn’t there, and he wasn’t going to be. Ever again. And it felt so _wrong_ , so utterly wrong Peter couldn’t believe it, he couldn’t even think of waking up one morning and not having Tony around anymore, it was so unnatural. He couldn’t think of waking up somewhere that wasn’t the tower, of going for breakfast and not finding Steve there, scrambling eggs just because he liked them like that.

Tomorrow, he was going to wake up in a place he’d never been before, and he was going to wake up alone. Again.

Peter turned around, looking at the room in which he was standing, and it felt so familiar, with his things scattered all around. He was going to have to pick it all up, grab a box and pack it, together with his clothes and other stuff. He was going to need a suitcase, for his old rucksack wasn’t big enough to fit all his possessions, now. All the books Tony had bought him, or the clothing, or, or anything else, really. Unless, well. Unless he had to leave it all back there, it was Tony’s stuff after all.

His head hurt. He felt sick to the stomach, and his eyes were burning, and his whole body felt like it had been run over by a truck, and that was it. He was going to leave his home once again, and Tony wasn’t even there to say goodbye.

“When are we going?”

Peter didn’t even ask _where_. It didn’t really matter. It was probably going to be some other foster home or something, it didn’t make any difference. But he needed to know how much time he had to pack, yes, he did need to know that.

“Whenever you’re ready, kid,” Fury replied in a low, comforting voice, and Peter nodded. It wasn’t going to take him long to pack, he didn’t really have _that_ much stuff, they were going to be out of there in what? Twenty minutes? Thirty, tops?

“Okay,” he said, and nodded once again. “Okay. I’ll be right back.”

“Pete – Nick, please –“

Peter ignored Steve and moved away when the man tried to grab him. He walked out of the lounge as fast as he could, and maybe he even ran down the corridor all the way to his room. Maybe he slammed the door shut, too, but he doubted anyone was going to notice anyway.

His room was just the same, lighted up by daylight crawling in through the windows, and it felt so… _his._ But it wasn’t, maybe it had never been.

He passed the back of his hand on his cheeks to dry the tears that were still running down, and he moved through the room as he looked for things he was going to need, wherever it was he was going. The laptop, phone and all the pieces of technology didn’t technically belong to him, so Peter just passed them by as quickly as he could, focusing on the rest; his clothes were still in the wardrobe, some others on the chair by the window, and he carefully looked through them to find the ones that actually belonged to him.

The grey Slayers shirt he loved so much was folded next to the Black Sabbath one, but those were Tony’s. His heart ached maybe a little as Peter pushed them on a side and picked his Ramones shirt instead, rolling it into a ball together with his old jeans and a couple of other shirts. He put it all in the old rucksack, all the clothes that were his from his life before the tower and Tony hadn’t bought for him, and the books he had brought with him when SHIELD had first come pick him up from his home.

The sack was full, but not as much as to have him finding a box or something to split his belonging. So, that was it. His bag was ready – he maybe wasn’t, but no one cared anyway, right? No one gave a damn about what he wanted, or if he was ready to be picked up and dropped like a fucking package all over again. Of course they couldn’t care less, he was nothing to them; an orphan, a mutant orphan no one really wanted to take care of.

Peter let the bag fall at his feet and he punched the wardrobe in a surge of anger, cracking the wood where his fist had touched it; he stopped for a moment, looking at his peeling knuckles, then punched the wardrobe again, and again, until he managed to break the door and leave it hanging from its hinges.

“ _I do not believe breaking things will help, young Peter_ ,” he heard JARVIS say, and really? Was it a joke or something?

“JARVIS, I really think this isn’t any of your business.”

Peter wiped away the snot mixed with drying tears and sniffled loudly, falling on the floor with his legs crossed and his head in his hands. He didn’t know what to do. He wasn’t even sure there was anything left for him to do at all if not follow the stupid orders grown-ups were so eager to give him.

“ _You are upset, Peter. It’s understandable. But I am sure everything will be alright in the end, there is no need to hurt yourself._ ”

Peter let out a rough laugh, head tilted back and new tears hiding at the corner of his eyes. Only, there wasn’t anything funny in all that, and surely there wasn’t anything funny in an artificial intelligence trying to comfort him.

“Thanks, J, but we both know it’s a big fat lie,” Peter said. “Nothing is gonna be okay, _this_ is not okay. Sorry, buddy, that’s how the world rolls.”

“ _Your Dad will not let this go easily, young Peter. It will be okay._ ”

“He’s not my dad, J,” Peter let out bitterly, and the words cut his tongue and his heart. “And he’s not here, is he? He’s not here to make things right, he’s just – hiding? Working? Probably working. I bet he couldn’t care less if I left today.”

“ _Peter –_ “

“Really, J, thanks for trying, but please, just leave it.”

Peter got on his feet and picked up his bag, grateful for the silence surrounding him now. JARVIS didn’t know shit about Tony if he thought he was going to do something to save the day. There wasn’t going to be any saving, not the day and certainly not _him_ , and he was just going to follow that Fury guy out of the tower not to come back ever again.

Peter took a deep breath and abandoned his room – _Tony’s room_ – without looking back, and he hurried down the corridor to the lounge, where he found Steve sitting on the couch and the Director standing still, a little distant from him.

He could do it, he could. He had lost so much more than _this_ , he had lost his parents, and his family, it wasn’t a big deal. He was going to lose it all again, but this time he was the one to blame; he should have known better than to think some strangers his family. They weren’t, they had never been.

“I’m ready. Let’s go.”

“Peter –“

Again, he ignored Steve. He couldn’t even look at him in the eyes without feeling like a big black hole was going to swallow him forever; he couldn’t stand the look in Steve’s eyes, not when he knew he had to go anyway and there was no stopping it.

“Bye, Steve.”

Peter turned his back on him and walked to the elevator, sure Fury was going to follow. For a moment silence seemed to rein upon them, suffocating them all, and then Peter heard Steve moving from the couch, striding after them.

“Nick, please, there must be something we can –“ he said, almost begging. “I know it’s the law and all, but just… don’t do this, Nick. You can’t take him, please, just – We will –“

“I’m sorry, Captain,” Fury said, and Peter heard a shade of real sorrow in his voice. “I can’t.”

Peter heard Steve sigh loudly, heard a little growling noise of frustration come from his throat, and before he could step closer he jumped into the elevator and pushed the button to the ground floor so vehemently he thought he was going to break it. When the door closed with a ding, Peter closed his eyes and locked up the pain somewhere far inside of him where he didn’t have to see it again for a while.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ...so. Here we are. 
> 
> Don't kill me? Hard times are coming, but sometimes that's how life goes. 
> 
> I hope you liked the chapter, and won't hate me too much for it. 
> 
> Keep the faith, things will evolve soon. 
> 
> See you soon (hopefully) with the rest of it. Lotta love,
> 
> C


End file.
